


There Is No Fire Lord

by OccasionalStorytelling



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Prison, Broken Bones, But Only a Little Bit - Freeform, Claustrophobia, Electrocution, Fire Lord Zuko, Firelord Iroh (Avatar), Hurt Zuko (Avatar), Implied/Referenced Abuse, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Prisoner Zuko (Avatar), Zuko (Avatar)-centric, Zuko Angst, Zuko thinks everyone hates him, angst coma, were gonna drag zuko into friendship if it kills us
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:35:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 107,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25217872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OccasionalStorytelling/pseuds/OccasionalStorytelling
Summary: This is an AU for MuffinLance's "zuko botches his escape attempt and spends the rest of the war in prison then has to be Fire Lord having never gotten his redemption arc" Towards the Sun. This is more of a "zuko botches his escape attempt and spends the rest of the war in prison, and then when he becomes Fire Lord they leave him in prison" kind of thing.After committing treason, Zuko spends months in prison, and even after both his father and Azula go missing, the guards can't coax him out of his cell. And then the Avatar shows up. How's the Gaang supposed to talk to a Fire Lord who doesn't even believe he's the Fire Lord?
Comments: 920
Kudos: 2694





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MuffinLance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuffinLance/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Towards the Sun](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19252807) by [MuffinLance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuffinLance/pseuds/MuffinLance). 



> This was an excuse to slap Zuko around and play in MuffinLance's world. It's a great world, I wanted to play in it. Go read Towards the Sun. 
> 
> ...I can't promise I'll complete this story, but I'll certainly try.

Though they never discussed it amongst themselves, not even in secret, the guards simultaneously and unanimously (and above all, quietly) made the decision to give Zuko updates about the “situation,” as they called it.

On the Day of Black Sun, Zuko committed treason and swore he would help the Avatar to defeat his father, or so the guards heard. The next thing any of them knew, Zuko was in the prison below the palace, swords flailing wildly, yelling about his Uncle. The boy was crushed when he realized Prince Iroh had already escaped, and someone managed to knock him unconscious while he was looking at the empty cell. Orders came in from Fire Lord Ozai: Zuko was no longer a Prince of the Fire Nation, and he was to be imprisoned so that he could do no more harm to the Fire Nation than he’d done in his banishment. So, for the foreseeable future, Zuko was to rot in prison beneath the palace, at least until he was old enough that he wouldn’t turn into a martyr when he was executed. And unlike the traitor Iroh, Zuko would not be given a cell with a window.

The best times, the guards agreed (but never in any location where they could be overheard) was when it was quiet enough that Ozai could ignore his son, and didn’t provide any “special instructions” about how to take care of him. Fortunately, the ex-prince stopped making escape attempts after a month or two, so the special instructions stopped coming through.

For the next several months, the rest of the summer, Zuko sat in prison underneath the palace, and it was mostly quiet, except for the occasional visit from Azula. Ozai hadn’t exactly _forbidden_ the guards to talk to his son, but it was heavily implied, so nobody risked it. The ex-prince’s shouting had stopped when the escape attempts did, so Azula’s visits seemed louder in comparison to the now-usual quiet of the prison. Towards the end of the summer, she came down in a horrible rage and flooded the cell with blue lightning, screaming at her brother to tell her what loyalty felt like. When she left, the ex-prince twitched with electric energy on the floor of his cell, but he was alive. A young guard named Usoni unlocked the door and went in with bandages and a soothing paste for the burn on the ex-prince’s stomach. Usoni wrapped his injury and whispered that two girls had attempted to break into the prison and rescue Zuko, and that Azula had subdued them and sent them away to Boiling Rock. Zuko twitched a few times at this, but didn’t exactly respond to this information. Whether he heard what Usoni said or not, this was the first crack in the floodgates, and the guards started talking to Zuko, passing whispers along when there was a new development in the royal family “situation.”

One day, Fire Lord Ozai declared himself Phoenix King, and named Azula as the new Fire Lord. This information was passed along, and Zuko blinked in apathetic lack-of-interest. When Azula became Fire Lord and began banishing her staff, several members of the Royal Guard suddenly had a reason to find someone who was not Azula to guard, so they ended up outside the prison, near Zuko’s cell, where they were technically doing their jobs protecting a member of the Fire Nation royal family, but they were safely out of Azula’s eyesight.

News came to the palace that the Avatar, that terrifying spirit being of unknowable power, had _removed_ Fire Lord Ozai’s bending, leaving him alive in an Earth Kingdom prison. As horrifying as this information was, Azula’s reaction was distracting enough to leave no room for fearful speculation about the Avatar. She didn’t intend to kill anyone (at least, they were _pretty sure_ she didn’t intend to kill anyone), but she set fire to almost a third of the castle in her rage, screaming that she would answer this unthinkable insult by completing Ozai’s work and destroying the Earth Kingdom, even without the comet. Rescue operations for the palace staff took more than a week long, and then every member of the Royal Guard found themselves in the awkward position that the only remaining Fire Nation royal still _present_ in the Fire Nation was in prison.

The prison guards soon found themselves dealing with the Royal Guard _and_ remaining members of the Royal Staff squeezing into the hallway outside Zuko’s cell. A guard captain named Aikoyo found herself coordinating the tension between prison guards and royal guards, and then she found herself in charge of both units. Under Fire Lord Oz— Under Phoenix King Oza— Under Departed Phoenix Kin— (no, he wasn’t dead yet, that would be disrespectful). Ozai’s last commands before he’d stopped caring was that Zuko was _not_ to be referred to as “Prince,” and he was _not_ to be released from his cell. But the technicality that he hadn’t specifically forbade talking to the prince—talking to _Zuko,_ was now expanded from whispers in the dark to include actually directly _talking_ to him. So the Royal Guard gathered themselves around Zuko’s cell, bowed politely, and explained that the Avatar had removed Agni’s blessing from Ozai and that Azula had since gone missing.

Zuko sat up. His disheveled, dirty hair covered his scarred eye and ear. His hair was burnt at the ends, where he’d given himself a prison haircut of some kind. He hadn’t been offered prison robes, so he still wore the rags of what he’d worn to break his Uncle out of prison, and the bandages Usoni had applied were visible through tears in the fabric. He looked at the guards like he was not-quite-awake or aware of his surroundings, before he nodded.

“Will he come to visit me?” Zuko asked. It came out with as much dignity as anyone could have expected. His throat was scratchy and dry from disuse.

“…Your father is in Earth Kingdom prison,” Aikoyo repeated. She was now unofficially in charge of all palace operations, once it was confirmed that her most recent predecessor had been killed in Azula’s fire, and the one before him had been killed defending Ozai’s flagship from the Avatar. Aikoyo realized that it did not bode well for her, to be the head of the Royal Guard to a royal who was not even titled anymore, but no one else had stepped up, and the job needed to be done. Not to mention, she’d never been _officially_ appointed to her new position according to Fire Nation palace rules. “…He won’t be coming,” she finished, awkwardly.

Zuko nodded sagely, and for a moment, the guards felt that they _were_ in the presence of a Fire Lord, not just a dirty teenager in a prison cell. The moment passed, as Zuko turned away from them to face the wall. Not knowing what else to do, the Royal Guard remained outside his cell,and it intentionally went undiscussed whether they were protecting Zuko or preventing him from escaping. The Royal Staff brought better food than the prison rations, and Zuko ate enough of it to remain alive, but no more. Zuko was offered a bath, but he refused to let anyone touch him to help. The guards politely refused to notice that Zuko had to limp to the washtub. When he was clean, he was offered clothes. No one was sure if it would be appropriate to invite him out of the cell (no one was sure if Ozai would return, and the rumors that he’d lost his fire to the Avatar would turn out to be myth, and everyone who’d helped Zuko while Ozai was away would be punished), and Zuko never asked to be let out, so he stayed in prison, but now lived with trappings of royalty provided by unnecessary staff.

A general arrived at the palace. He wanted to move his troops out of hostile Earth Kingdom territory, back home to their families. The general was shuffled from not-sure-what-to-do guard to guard, until he demanded to speak to whoever was in charge. He was brought to Aikoyo, and after an uncomfortable discussion of formalities, she in turn brought him to Zuko. To his credit, the general didn’t show any hesitation before he bowed to the height due a Fire Nation Prince and described the situation with his troops. Zuko sat on the other side of the cell wall from the general, and his back was as straight as if he sat on the Fire throne, with a wall of flame separating him from the general instead of these iron bars.

“Are you asking me what to do, or are you asking me for permission to complete _your_ plan?” Zuko asked. No one was ever sure if the way he spoke was the wisdom of a leader or the worry of a prisoner that he was about to be punished, but he spoke in a calm, even tone that was easy to listen to. His voice had even gotten less scratchy as he’d started talking more frequently.

“I’m asking for your orders,” the general decided, bowing once more. The guards looked at each other. With that sentence, the general had officially acknowledged Zuko’s royal status, _against_ Ozai’s orders. Fortunately, it had happened in a prison under the palace, rather than a public space. It would still be possible to cover this up.

Zuko carefully stood up in his cell and bowed to the general, much lower than a Prince should bow to an underling. “The people of the Fire Nation have suffered enough. Remove your troops from the battlefields, and return them to their homes.”

The general bowed politely and was ushered away. One of the guards spoke to him, and explained that Zuko had been stripped of his title, and perhaps the details of this conversation should stay secret in case Ozai were to return. The general explained that he would not be held accountable for the decision to retreat if and when Ozai returned, and that it would be better for the boy to take the responsibility of issuing orders on behalf of the Fire Lord than it would be for the general to admit to acting of his own volition. The general laughed, and suggested that maybe Ozai would put Zuko out of his misery, and he was then personally escorted from the palace by Aikoyo and gently (by way of a _purely_ accidental fall down a flight of stairs) invited never to return to the palace.

In his cell, Zuko talked to himself. The guards had practice ignoring this, as Zuko’s nightmares were never exactly _quiet,_ but _this_ was noticeable, as Zuko was awake. Whispers spread that he was going mad too, just as Ozai and Azula had. These whispers abruptly ceased when it was realized this talk was treason, and also when a maid who’d brought Zuko his dinner began telling people that he’d just been doing his impression of Prince Iroh. This was a favorite among the palace guards, but Zuko hadn’t done it since before he’d been imprisoned.

After that, everyone tried to catch Zuko doing it. He seemed to realize, and he tried to be quieter, but his voice was gravelly and there wasn’t much background noise to cover it up. This didn’t stop the guards from trying to sneak close enough to catch one of Zuko’s made up phrases. One of the guards, a young one named Risai, managed to strike up a conversation with Zuko (impressive enough on its own) and somehow slid in the phrase “I wonder what Iroh would say if he were here…”

The guards leaned in, ready for one of Zuko’s famous proverbs in his Prince Iroh impression, but Zuko went silent. “Please show him the respect he deserves,” Zuko said quietly, and the Iroh impressions stopped for a few days, much to everyone’s sadness.Risai found himself receiving a few “friendly” punches from his fellows.

“I told you that wouldn’t work,” Usoni said once they were out of earshot.

“It _could_ have. He’s been different ever since Azula left. Happier,” Risai said, adjusting the straps on his helmet.

“Yeah, because suddenly his _prison_ is full of people who want to talk to him,” Usoni said, quietly. “If Ozai comes back—“

“You didn’t worry about Ozai coming back when you were giving him _medical care_ like some kind of _doctor,”_ Risai said.

“Shh!” Usoni hissed, looking around. “He was unconscious, he doesn’t even remember it was me, he just woke up with bandages. And I’d like it to _stay_ that way.”

“You don’t…seriously think Ozai’s coming back, do you?” Risai asked, nervously.

“If he does, I don’t want to _need to visit sick relatives_ , if you know what I mean,” Usoni said. Risai didn’t ask why Usoni had bothered to treat Zuko’s lightning wound if he was so worried about the consequences. Zuko was likable, in a way that Ozai and Azula never were. He made you _want_ to help him, even though he clearly never wanted to be helped.

It was becoming increasingly awkward to be a guard in Zuko’s prison. It wasn’t _Zuko’s_ prison, it just happened that Zuko was the only one there, and it just made sense to refer to it like that. Which was part of the awkwardness. They offered him food and clothes befitting a Prince (which he was not), and they maintained a level of discretion and formality as if Zuko was a Prince (he _really_ was not, hadn’t Ozai forbade referring to him as Prince Zuko?), and they kept visitors from openly insulting him (it seemed a new general arrived every day, and eventually more than one came at a time, trying to have a council, but Agni knew none of Zuko’s guard would permit any of them to disrespect Zuko as the first one had), but they didn’t let Zuko out of the cell, and he never asked to be let out.

Aikoyo ordered Zuko’s cell to be “accidentally” unlocked after he was brought food. Either Zuko didn’t notice, or didn’t care. Then the door was left visibly open. Then the guards left the prison altogether for several hours, leaving Zuko’s cell door open, hoping against hope that the boy would escape or at _least_ move to nicer accommodations in the palace itself, but when they returned, he hadn’t moved. Aikoyo was going to _kick_ herself, was it possible that the ex-prince’s leg still hurt too much for him to move without help? She was going to have to order the guards out, leave the cell open _and_ provide crutches, she didn’t know how she was going to make _that_ sound like it followed protocol—

“Am I banished?” Zuko asked Aikoyo.

She looked down at him. He sat on the floor of his cell, wearing the robes of a prince. He had a look as if he thought she was going to burn off the other half of his face.

“You’re not banished,” Aikoyo said. “We just thought…” she _almost_ couldn’t bring herself to say it. Admitting aloud that she had conspired to try and permit Zuko’s escape would be treason if Ozai ever returned. But it had occurred to some of the guards that perhaps keeping Zuko in prison would be treason if Zuko were to claim the title of Fire Lord for himself. “We thought you might take the opportunity to escape, Prince Zuko,” she said.

“I won’t banish myself,” Zuko said, and he twisted his face like he had a sour taste in his mouth. “I won’t leave the Fire Nation again. It’s…my home.”

Aikoyo didn’t know what to say. She was starting to believe that Ozai and Azula would never return. Maybe the Avatar had taken Azula’s firebending too, Aikoyo thought with a shudder. She was starting to believe that they seriously needed to promote Zuko to Prince, and then officially make him the Fire Lord. Publicly. But it had been weeks since Azula had gone missing, it might be too late now to reveal that Zuko was in prison below the palace and Aikoyo was the guard in charge as he continued to be kept there. If Zuko became Fire Lord, she would need to find some sick relatives to visit, quickly.

“Does he not want to see me?” Zuko asked, with a pained look on his face. “I’m sorry to ask, you must be forbidden to speak about him near me—“

Zuko’s speech was interrupted before Aikoyo could ask him was he was talking about by the arrival of one of the Fire Lord’s Advisors, Taoh. He coughed nervously as he stepped into the prison, in sight of Zuko. Taoh bowed awkwardly at the height due a Fire Nation Prince, then adjusted himself even lower to the height due a Fire Lord.

“Zuko,” Taoh said, and Aikoyo made a note to thank whichever guard had briefed the advisor not to use a title, “If…if you are meeting with generals, it is only fair that you have the Royal Advisors present. To, um, advise.” The man trembled, and bowed again.

Zuko looked up, and scratched at his face. The scared teenager expression he’d been wearing fell away (so did a tear that Aikoyo politely failed to notice) and the ex-prince was as stiff and formal and blank as if he’d been doing paperwork. “Of course,” Zuko said, and he stood and performed a response bow.

Taoh started sweating nervously. They’d warned him that the acting Fire Lord was ridiculously unconcerned with proper form, but Prince Zuko had bowed the height that a normal citizen accords to a noble. This was unacceptable, but it was also unacceptable to suggest that the Fire Lord—sorry, _acting_ Fire Lord—had made a mistake. It was completely _unthinkable_ to notice that the acting Fire Lord had briefly struggled to stand, having trouble putting weight on his left leg. But Taoh soldiered on bravely, and announced the arrival of three generals and summarized their requests, with all the formality of a council meeting held in the proper room for it. The generals entered, bowed respectfully, and the four arranged themselves on the floor, seated in the hallway outside of Zuko’s cell.

Aikoyo had entered the cell to talk to Zuko, and she now wondered if she should be outside the cell with the others, but she settled on holding her position directly behind Zuko, as if she was guarding the Fire Lord at council. She reflected on the situation that had gotten her into this position, guarding a Fire Lord from his prison cell. She looked at the advisor, Taoh, and the generals explaining military movements to a teenage prisoner in Fire Nation Royal robes. She was going to need to visit sick relatives, she was sure. This situation was unsustainable.

Everything was fine after that, for a long while. From his cell, acting Fire Lord Zuko ordered troops moved out of Earth Kingdom territory, and assistance sent in the form of food and workers to cities and towns that the Fire Nation had destroyed. At some point, Aikoyo realized that Zuko was essentially holding full council meetings in the prison, with a full quorum of advisors and generals, and maps laid out on the floor. The cell bars became the new “wall of fire” separating the Fire Lord from his subjects, and the meetings were always held with Zuko and his guard on the inside of the bars, and the council members outside. Publicly, of course, it could not be acknowledged officially that Zuko was acting as Fire Lord. Officially, the Fire Nation was awaiting the return of Fire Lord Azula who would either accept or rescind her advisors’ and generals’ decisions as she saw fit. Unofficially, it became known near the palace that Prince Zuko was alive, and that he was somewhere inside the palace, talking to generals and giving orders. The people imagined him regally sitting on the Fire Throne, ruling with compassion, at least until Azula returned. Also unofficially, the Fire Nation waited for Ozai to return. It could not be possible that the Avatar had stripped him of his bending. Such a thing would be unthinkably horrifying, so it, like all such things, was carefully ignored.

Aikoyo never found herself getting around to visiting sick relatives, as she couldn’t imagine leaving Prince Zuko to deal with his new responsibilities alone. There was something about the boy that inspired loyalty in those around him. Generals came and went, and perhaps some of them held no love for the Prince, but the guards and staff that served him had come to love him. He was honest and open, and he spoke what was on his mind. He was as honorable a person as any of them had ever met.

It was weird that he didn’t yell, though. They’d all heard stories of Prince Zuko’s terrorizing the crew of his ship when he was hunting the Avatar. And when he’d lived at the palace, in the short time before he committed treason and was himself committed to prison, he was always a loud person, yelling and shouting about even the smallest things. It was like he was trying to prove he was still alive. He didn’t yell in prison, not after the first two weeks, and though everyone in attendance at council was grateful they weren’t dealing with screaming bouncing all over the walls during their discussions, they did worry that something was wrong, sometimes.

You couldn’t always tell, but Zuko was sad. “Sad” was the wrong word, Aikoyo reflected. He acted like he’d been betrayed, but she couldn’t figure out what was bothering him. His situation had only approved since Azula had left; he now had a loyal staff and comfortable life. But his nightmares had changed from screaming in fear at his father to soft crying, and she _hated_ that she knew this. Zuko would never show any hint of being anything other than a perfect ruler in his council meetings, and then sometimes he would cry, and he’d just be a teenager again, alone in a prison cell without his family. Sometimes Zuko would ask “is _he_ coming to visit me today?” and Aikoyo would sadly remind him that Ozai was likely in an Earth Kingdom prison or dead, and Zuko would take this answer as if it was somehow both meaningless and absolutely soul-crushingly the worst thing he’d ever heard.

The little Fire Lord sat in his cell, separated from his subjects by iron bars rather than a wall of flame, and it broke Aikoyo’s heart.

But he wouldn’t leave the cell, and when they offered him nicer rooms, they made the mistake of using honorifics for the Fire Lord, and he acted like their offer of a bed and windows in a not-prison-cell room was a trap.

So, other than those few little things, life went on, and Zuko ruled the Fire Nation from a prison cell with no windows, and the guards did what they did best and acted as if everything was fine.

But then everything changed when the Avatar landed in the courtyard.

————————————————————————

“Hmm.” Iroh said, scratching his head. “I expected my nephew to come out to greet us. Something is wrong.”

“I wonder how long he waited to get crowned after we kicked his dad’s ass,” Sokka grumbled, jumping down from Appa’s saddle. “I knew the Fire Nation doesn’t _do_ families, but from your stories, you made it sound like he _liked_ you, Iroh. Like maybe he would’ve come out to see you, at least?”

“It has been a long time since my nephew and I have seen eye to eye,” Iroh said, quietly.

When they landed, the one guard standing in the courtyard ran up to Appa and bowed. He said he would fetch someone to talk to them, and he ran off though a door at a pace that didn’t match the calm formality of his bow. Team Avatar prepared themselves for a fight, everyone (except Toph, who’d never met Zuko) ready for Zuko to blast through into the courtyard with fire and fail to capture Aang again.

After a few minutes passed (while Katara angrily popped the cork on her waterskin over and over again, and Aang couldn’t stop fidgeting either), everyone expected Zuko towalk calmly into the courtyard in Fire Nation robes and glare at them, like he’d mellowed out from being Fire Lord. He’d cross his arms and yell at them, but he wouldn’t _actively_ attack them. Probably. Except he didn’t come outside.

A Fire Nation guard came into the courtyard, with several others behind her. Iroh nudged Sokka in such a way to indicate _this is the Royal Guard, be careful,_ or something like that. The woman leading the small procession stopped in front of their group and bowed.

“My name is Aikoyo. I have been managing palace affairs since Princess Azula left,” she said.

“Have things really come to that?” Iroh said, raising an eyebrow. “So soon?”

“My apologies, Prince Iroh,” she bowed again, “I hope you will not find the situation in the palace to be unsatisfactory. I take full responsibility, none but me is at fault.”

“Who cares about this stuff?” Sokka groaned. “Take us to see the Fire Lord! We request an audience with him, or whatever. Look, I don’t speak Fire Nation, I’ve never pretended I do!”

Toph jabbed an elbow into Sokka’s side. “Shut up, Snoozles. They’re not speaking Fire Nation, they’re speaking Rich People.”

“Well, what are they saying?” Sokka was annoyed. Aikoyo made a careful, deliberate look at Iroh, who nodded in response.

“Perhaps we could continue our discussion in a different setting,” Iroh smiled. “Should we adjourn to the council room? Though I’d hate to interrupt a meeting.”

“The council room is not in use at present,” Aikoyo bowed again. Tui and La, there was so much bowing. Sokka hated this place already.

“I see,” Iroh said, and it came out coldly. He turned to the group of kids and smiled. “I won’t be long. We’ll talk with my nephew soon enough, I just need to have a conversation with Aikoyo.”

Aikoyo bowed again, and Iroh nodded his head. He followed her through the same door that she had come from, and some of the guards went with them, but there were still five in the courtyard watching the Avatar and his friends.

Toph punched Sokka in the shoulder, lightly.

“Ow! What was that for?” Sokka said, rubbing the spot.

“For being an idiot! Did you listen at _all_ when Iroh and I gave the briefing about talking to royalty?” Toph gave him a look, and she felt his heartbeat jump as he flinched.

“No, but I don’t _need_ to know how to talk to royalty! I talked to Yue, didn’t I?” Sokka crossed his arms smugly.

“Yep. And she only had to turn into the moon to get away from you,” Katara said, smirking.

“Hey!” Sokka said. “That one hurts, Katara. You should know better.”

“You’re the one who brought it up,” Katara shrugged.

“Whatever. Toph, translate the rich person speak,” Sokka said.

“Wait…that guard said that she had been managing the palace since Princess Azula left…” Aang said, slowly.

“That’s right, Twinketoes,” Toph smiled, slapping Aang on the back. “And what does that mean?”

“Um…she said “Princess,” not “Fire Lord,” so… Azula isn’t in power,” Aang said, scrunching his forehead.

“That’s good, only-person-that-paid-attention-in-the-briefing,” Toph said. “Did you get the last part?”

“I know it’s bad,” Aang said, “but mostly because of how Iroh reacted.”

“She said _she_ was managing the palace affairs,” Toph said. “She might as well have said _she_ was the Fire Lord, because _there is no official Fire Lord.”_

“What?” Katara looked up from angrily freezing her water ball into spikes.

“Obviously there’s a Fire Lord,” Toph rolled her eyes. “We _know_ Zuko’s giving orders like the Fire Lord, but he doesn’t _officially_ have the crown, so this random guard can’t talk about him like he’s in charge. And did you hear what she said? Zuko’s not using the council room. Dude’s probably holed up in a fancy room with pillows issuing executive orders, no _way_ is he talking to advisors or doing _anything_ according to protocol.”

“Okay, not to be that guy, but _translate,”_ Sokka said.

“Zuko is a loose cannon who does whatever he wants now, and he doesn’t want to talk to us,” Toph shrugged. “I guess we _are_ gonna have to “take care” of him, Snoozles.”

“What? We’re not here to kill him,” Aang spluttered. “We’re here to talk about ending the war!”

“We are,” Katara said, “and if there’s no way we can do that with _Zuko_ on the throne?”

“I don’t want to talk about this,” Aang said, jumping back up into Appa’s saddle.

Katara leaned closer to Toph and gestured for Sokka to do the same. She whispered so Aang wouldn’t hear—he’d already given so much to end the war, and they wouldn’t force him to kill Zuko if it had to be done. “Toph, can you find Zuko in the palace?” Katara asked. “If we could figure out where he is, we could just find him instead of waiting for Iroh to get back and explain why we have to wait three business days to see the not-Fire-Lord.”

Toph shifted her toes in the ground, and a few cobblestones broke loose, making one of the guards jump a little. She focused on expanding her senses, feeling out as far as she could. Right next to her, the strong beat of Appa’s heart almost covering up those of her friends. Farther away, the guards on the courtyard, and more behind the door Iroh had disappeared through. And then the palace was mostly empty, but there was Iroh sitting with the guard who’d escorted him away, and…oh. _Oh._

“Guys!” Toph hissed. “Half the people here are _underground.”_

“In the tunnels where we fought Azula?” Sokka asked.

“I’m not sure,” Toph frowned. “There’s a lot of metal. There’s…I think there’s someone in prison down there, and they’re surrounded by guards, too. A lot of them.”

“It must be Azula,” Katara said. “The only way Zuko would ever get away with being Fire Lord was if she was out of the picture, and that’s how!”

“He couldn’t beat her in a fair fight, so he put her in jail so _he_ could be Fire Lord!” Sokka said, punching his fist in the air. “It’s genius! We gotta beat this guy up.”

“I can’t find him,” Toph said. “I can’t figure out which one is him, and if he’s really holed up with a pile of pillows like I said, that would muffle my senses.”

“That’s okay, Toph,” Katara said. Her tone was firm. “We’ll wait for Iroh, and we’ll see what he says. But we’ve beaten Zuko before, and we’ll do it now.”

————————————————————————

Zuko wasn’t an idiot. He didn’t need windows to know what was going on outside of the little cell block. Watching the guards’ faces was a much better way to figure that stuff out. So when Aikoyo left the prison at a different time than her usual routine, after three guards came in and frantically whispered to her, Zuko noticed. Though no one volunteered any information to Zuko, he soon realized what had occurred. The Avatar had arrived at the palace. The Avatar, who Zuko had dedicated so much of his life to catching, who had _removed Ozai’s firebending from him_ , was here. Zuko tried to work up the energy to be afraid, and found that he could not. Either the Avatar would kill Zuko, or he wouldn’t. And if the Avatar took Zuko’s bending, Zuko would kill himself. But more likely, the Avatar was here to see the Fire Lord, and wouldn’t care at all about a useless teenager in a prison cell. Sure, the Fire Lord had let Zuko make some decisions, and lead some council meetings (assuming he wasn’t overturning everything Zuko said as soon as the generals left), but Zuko had no real power. If he did, he wouldn’t be in a cell.

After some time, Zuko heard footsteps, and muted voices. Every guard straightened as if… Zuko went pale as he realized what must be happening. It couldn’t be. No one remembered to lock Zuko’s cell (they _never_ did anymore), and he almost considered fusing it closed with firebending, but it was too late. Aikoyo entered the prison, escorting Fire Lord Iroh behind her. Zuko’s heart stopped.

The last time he’d seen his Uncle, they were in the exact opposite of this situation. Uncle had been the one in a cell, and Zuko had stood outside yelling at him, calling him names. Since that time (well, since Zuko had been imprisoned during his attempt to rescue Uncle and _Agni, Uncle was right, Zuko never thought anything through, what had he planned to do once he’d saved Uncle, not that Uncle needed it_ ), since that time Uncle had become Fire Lord, obviously. There was no other explanation for the changes that had occurred in the prison. Father and Azula would never have assigned Royal Guard to Zuko, and Zuko couldn’t think of anyone other than Uncle who would care enough to have nice food and clothes sent down. Uncle had even let Zuko make some decisions, sending generals down to the prison rather than letting Zuko back in the council room (and Zuko knew he’d messed up so badly that first time Uncle let him in the council room that he’d never get invited to the council room again).

Every time Zuko had asked the guard Aikoyo if his Uncle would be coming down in person to visit him, she always responded that his father was in prison too. That answer made Uncle’s feelings clear—Uncle had finally realized that Zuko was worthless, and would _not_ be providing hugs or tea as he’d done in the past. At least he still cared enough to let Zuko remain alive and in the Fire Nation. Zuko would rather be dead than banished again, and he knew that Uncle knew that.

But now, here Uncle was, arriving in Zuko’s prison. He was going to notice that the guards had left the door unlocked, and he was going to punish them. He was going to notice that Zuko had made decisions at the weird not-quite-council-meetings that didn’t protect the Fire Nation’s image, they needed to be viewed as a strong nation that would never back down from a fight but Zuko had ordered troops to retreat. He was going to…

The realization hit Zuko all at once. The Avatar landed at the palace the same day that his Uncle came to visit him? Uncle was going to offer Zuko as a trade to the Avatar, “kill my nephew but don’t take my firebending” or something like that. Zuko couldn’t blame him, but he hoped he’d get a chance to apologize Uncle before they went through with it. The original rescue plan that landed Zuko in prison had included “beg Uncle for forgiveness,” and that was the only part of the plan still possible, so Zuko was going to do it.

“Prince Zuko? Are you all right?” Uncle stood outside the cell door. Not “nephew,” not “Zuko,” Uncle had said “Prince Zuko.” Agni, it _hurt_ to hear him say that, that fake title that Zuko knew he’d never had restored.

“I’m fine,” Zuko said, prostrating himself on the floor. If he could go any lower, if he could sink into the floor right now and spare Uncle his presence, he would. But then Uncle wouldn’t have anything to trade to the Avatar. Zuko had practiced this apology in his head every day for months. “Fire Lord Iroh, I apologize for my—“

Everything was suddenly noise and loudness. Zuko regretted saying anything beyond “I’m fine,” he shouldn’t have tried to interrupt the Fire Lord. Zuko didn’t move from his position on the floor, just in case anyone was throwing fire and needed Zuko’s face for a target. Uncle was yelling, Aikoyo was doing the not-quite-yelling loud voice guards used on royalty, and Zuko couldn’t make out what anyone was actually saying. All he could catch was Uncle, saying words like “unacceptable” and “shameful” and “completely intolerable,” and then the cell door was opening and Zuko’s heart was beating so fast he thought it was going to beat out of his chest, and then he felt someone’s hand touch his shoulder but he couldn’t breathe, and he couldn’t get air to explain politely and formally that he couldn’t breathe in accordance with protocol, and he couldn’t bow any lower, his forehead was already on the ground, and his chest seized up but then thankfully, everything went dark and quiet as he passed out.

————————————————————————

“Holy badgermole,” Toph said, jumping up and startling Katara, Sokka, and Aang. “Iroh just killed Azula.”

“ _WHAT?!?!”_ Aang jumped down next to Toph, his glider in one hand.

“Wha—?” Sokka blinked sleepily, because somehow he’d taken a nap against Appa’s side while they were waiting for Iroh to come back.

“Iroh went underground where all the people were, and the weird heartbeat is _not there any—_ wait, there it is.” Toph crouched and rubbed her hands on the ground, trying to get a better picture. “Person in a cell is having a panic attack, but still alive. Iroh is there, so’s the guard he was with.”

“Azula’s having a panic attack?” Katara squinted. “That doesn’t sound like her.”

“It doesn’t feel like her,” Toph said, concentrating. “I don’t know who else it would be, but this doesn’t feel like Azula.”

“Let’s go down there!” Sokka raised his boomerang in one hand. “Either get the guards to take us there, or bust our way in! What if Iroh needs help?”

Katara popped the cork on her waterskin and pulled the water into a whip. “Let’s go.”

“Maybe we should wait—“ Toph started, but Aang had already leapt across the courtyard to the big door and was blasting through it, yelling something about being the Avatar and needing to go to prison, and Sokka and Katara were running after him, so Toph rolled up her sleeves and followed.

Somehow, the four of them managed to tumble their way through the halls and down staircases to the prison, and by then they could hear shouting. They pushed past the guards, and they really couldn’t have predicted what they were about to see.

Iroh and the guard-woman were both in a prison cell, shouting at each other as the door stood wide open. The guard had one hand on a bundle of red fabric, and the other was on a weapon that she hadn’t yet unsheathed. Iroh was standing over her, gesticulating wildly and breathing fire, shouting and looking for all the world like he deserved the name “Dragon of the West.” Andthen the pile of fabric _twitched,_ and there was a _person_ in there. And that person was Fire Lord Zuko, who was unconscious, and Toph could feel that his heart was doing some not-good things, and he definitely wasn’t breathing the right way, but then a lot of things happened at once.

Iroh got most of the way through yelling something that started with “these completely intolerable conditions for my nephew—“ when Aikoyo pulled her dagger out of its sheath and pointed it at him. Sokka yelled “For the Water Tribe!” and leapt to tackle Aikoyo, but hit his face on the cell bars and fell over, inadvertently knocking Katara’s water whip out of the way, which hit Aang, who’d been in the middle of knocking over some guards with an air blast. Toph metalbent the bars out of the way, twisting them to the floor and effectively exploding the cell into nothing, which gave Sokka the chance to jump over the ruins of the cell bars, directly onto Iroh, who’d been trying to push Aikoyo’s dagger away from him and now found himself on his back with Sokka on top of him. They landed on Zuko’s leg, and there was a soft “crack” sound that went unheard in the chaos. Aikoyo leaned over Zuko protectively, now threatening Sokka with the dagger, and Katara bowled her over with a blast of water before Katara was grappled from behind by one of the guards.

“Everybody, _STOP!”_ Aang yelled, and clapped his hands, blasting a powerful wave of air over the cell block. Everyone pretty much froze where they were. “What is _happening?_ ”

On the floor, Zuko coughed weakly. The guard holding Katara released her, and quickly knelt next to Zuko. He ripped open Zuko’s shirt and looked at Aikoyo.

“Take care of him, Usoni,” Aikoyo said. She stood up, and she was soaking wet from Katara’s attack, but she bowed politely to everyone present. “My apologies for this disturbance, Avatar and friends.” Below her, the guard (Usoni, apparently) was attempting to remove a _lot_ of bandages from Zuko’s abdomen. No wonder the guy was having trouble breathing.

“What is _happening?!?”_ Aang asked again, looking at Iroh, then back at Aikoyo, then down at Zuko.

“This is the Fire Lord,” Toph said, pointing at Zuko, who was still crumbled on the ground. She laughed, suddenly. “Oh, spirits, this is going to be a _fun_ conversation.”

————————————————————————

The first time Zuko woke up, he panicked to find himself in a bright room with walls too far away to touch, and a familiar screen near the too-soft bed he was in. The palace hospital, where the palace doctors worked. Zuko screamed, and when he thrashed around in the too-many-blankets, he felt a horrible familiar pain in his leg, and he screamed louder. Someone held him down and forced him to drink a cup of tea, and then everything went dark.

————————————————————————

“The situation here is more terrible than I realized,” Iroh said quietly. He sat with the rest of Team Avatar around a small table. They were served tea by a quiet servant who didn’t meet anyone’s eyes.

“I’ll say,” Sokka sighed, poking at some snacks that had been placed on the table. “How do we know this food isn’t poisoned?”

“There is no Fire Lord,” Iroh said. He said it like he didn’t believe it was true. He said it like the world was ending, or had already ended and now they were waiting to die. He said it like there was no hope in the world, which was funny, because Sokka was pretty sure that “not having a Fire Lord” was a good thing for the world.

————————————————————————

The second time Zuko woke up, he was strapped down. He was still in the hospital. He struggled against the straps and screamed and it felt _good_ to release that tension, all of the worries he’d been carrying trying to be a good prisoner for Uncle Iroh came out in a whoosh of breath, and he knew some of it was fire, and it felt _good._ Up until they held him down and made him drink more drugged tea. He realized it was drugged and he laughed and laughed and screamed until he couldn’t any longer, and then he fell asleep.

————————————————————————

“Sure there’s a Fire Lord,” Sokka said. “Fire Lord Jerkbender. Fire Lord Worst Nephew, don’t you remember? He’s in the hospital, I guess we could visit him, but it’s not like being injured doesn’t make him _not_ the Fire Lord. Or does it?”

“My nephew is not Fire Lord,” Iroh continued. “Not officially. He is no longer even a prince. My brother stripped his titles. In order for Zuko to become Fire Lord, first a different Fire Lord would have to reinstate his title as a Prince, and then Zuko would have to wait until that Fire Lord abdicated or died.”

“Where would we get a _different_ Fire Lord?” Katara asked.

“We don’t have to!” Sokka brightened. “If you’re the only one with a title, _you’re_ the Fire Lord now, right Iroh?”

“Not exactly,” Iroh sighed. “My niece Azula was the last person to carry the title of Fire Lord. She has been missing from the palace for weeks, since she learned that Aang removed Ozai’s bending.” Iroh hoped he didn’t say that with a shudder. He’d certainly gotten better at hiding the shudder, but it had been particularly difficult after he’d first learned that the Avatar could remove another person’s bending ability. It was a terrifying revelation. “The servants believe Azula is trying to rescue her father from Earth Kingdom prison. They also believe she’s gone insane. But this doesn’t answer your question: I am the only titled Fire Nation Royal in the palace, but I need to openly, publicly, and officially challenge Azula for the right to the throne. If she fails the challenge or doesn’t show, I become the Fire Lord.”

“Literally, let’s do that right now, I do _not_ see a problem with having Uncle Friendly as the Fire Lord,” Sokka said. “Only problem left is _can I PLEASE have the rest of your rations Katara I’m just really hungry—“_

————————————————————————

Zuko woke up again, and he was awake enough to wonder how long he’d been asleep. His legs were still strapped down, but his hands were free. Someone with a blurry face walked over to him with a tea cup, and held it to his lips. “I don’t want to drink that—“ Zuko spluttered and pushed it away. “I can sleep without it, I promise—“ more people were coming over. Someone’s hand was on his shoulder. Zuko closed his eyes and let the words come out. He begged.

Aikoyo tried to give Zuko some tea as soon as she saw he was awake, but he pushed her away, voice slow and slurred from the sleeping drug. She gestured for help.

“No doctors, please,” Zuko said. Was he crying? Aikoyo didn’t have enough training to pretend not to notice this. “I just want to go back to the cell, just ignore me, I’ll heal eventually, I did the first time—“ he kept babbling as Aikoyo tried to gently give him the tea, with the help of Usoni and the doctor.

“Make sure he fucking stays down,” Zuko said, through gritted teeth, in a weird deep tone. Aikoyo blinked a few times. She recognized that voice. “Make sure he doesn’t hurt himself before the Avatar gets him,” Zuko said in his Iroh impression, and he laughed hysterically.

“Please, I don’t want doctors,” Zuko begged, and his eyes closed and his body went limp. Aikoyo laid him gently down on the bed.

“It might be best if he wasn’t here, actually,” the doctor said, not looking at Aikoyo. “I treated Prince Zuko in this room after the Agni Kai with his father. He must not have very pleasant memories of me.”

“Usoni, can you work with the doctor and figure out how we should be treating him?” Aikoyo rubbed her forehead with one hand. Even while he was unconscious, looking after Zuko was a full-time job, and it was exhausting.

“He didn’t seem to mind when I bandaged him in the prison cell,” Usoni suggested helpfully. It wasn’t very helpful.

“Please tell me you aren’t suggesting we intentionally move the acting Fire Lord to a prison cell again,” Aikoyo said. “We only got him to leave it because he was unconscious and didn’t have a choice.”

“Look at him,” Usoni gestured. “…You heard him. It’s too bright for him in here, and he’s gotten agoraphobic so this room is _way_ too big for him, and he hates the _idea_ of doctors.”

“I really wish I had a better plan,” Aikoyo sighed. “Move him.”

————————————————————————

“My nephew is not well,” Iroh said, lowering his head. “He believes that I have been Fire Lord since Azula left the palace months ago.”

“Then what has he been doing?” Aang asked. “He’s not going to hunt me down and capture me, right?”

“He believes, through no small fault of those guards who have allowed him to believe it, that he is in prison, I am the Fire Lord, and I have been ordering him to practice diplomacy by holding council meetings as the Fire Lord.” Iroh sipped his tea.

“Again,” Sokka said, “I see _no problem_ with this. Why _can’t_ Iroh be the Fire Lord?”

“How many people do you think I’ve killed, Sokka?” Iroh asked. It came out in a friendly, kind tone, as if it was the most natural continuation to the conversation he could possibly think of.

“Um,” Sokka said.

“But we’ve forgiven you—“ Aang started. Iroh held up one hand.

“The Dragon of the West may be in my past, but it is still part of who I am. The other nations will never live in peace with the Fire Nation while I sit on the throne,” Iroh continued. “And I think we all know why the current Fire Lord cannot continue to rule, even if it is only in title.”

“Crazy Blue,” Sokka said. “She’s still Fire Lord even though she hasn’t been here for months?”

“I warned you that the politics of the Fire Nation court would be confusing to you,” Iroh sighed.

————————————————————————

Zuko woke up in his cell, and the world made sense again. He wanted to cry. What kind of state was he in that the world only made sense when he was in prison? There weren’t any windows here, there was no way to get _any_ sunlight, and he’d once cried for hours after Azula locked him in a closet for only 20 minutes, there was no _way_ he should feel comfortable or safe in a _prison._

One of the guards was messing with bandages on Zuko’s abdomen. The injury Azula had given him, which was still healing. Zuko hoped it wasn’t infected again. Zuko looked around. No more doctors. No more bright hospital room. Things were okay. They shouldn’t be, but they were. He laughed.

He’d _begged_ to be brought back here. How pathetic was that? He laughed harder.

A prince of the Fire Nation—no, an ex-prince, Father had removed Zuko’s title. Wasn’t that funny? Wasn’t that just hilarious? Zuko shook with laughter, and somebody held him by his shoulders and shook him back and forth.

There was something heavy wrapped around Zuko’s leg. He tried to move it. It hurt like hell. Not as bad as the burns, though, and _that_ was funny too. Someone forced him to drink tea, and it didn’t feel like a doctor trying to push “mercy” on him, it felt like a _punishment,_ and that was okay. That was familiar. Zuko took it and fell asleep again.

————————————————————————

“Just so I understand, then,” Toph said, “the plan is for you to declare yourself Fire Lord and then promote your Avatar-hating nephew into the position instead?”

“That could work,” Katara said slowly. “And then when we take him down, we end the war. We’ve already defeated Ozai, how hard could it be to take down Zuko? I’ve done that alone before, and if our whole team was working together—“

“Defeating the Fire Lord doesn’t end the war,” Aang realized. “If troops were withdrawing…it was on Zuko’s orders from prison, not because I punched Ozai?”

“You begin to understand,” Iroh said. “But I should warn you, it is not common knowledge outside of palace walls that Zuko has been issuing orders from prison. It is assumed that he has been acting as Fire Lord in all ways, despite being unable to take the title, and I would rather we let him keep his dignity than give the entire Fire Nation a crisis of faith in their leadership. But you are correct, Aang—we’ll need Zuko on the throne, officially and publicly, making reparations and ending the war through diplomatic channels, or we won’t be able to end hostilities at all.”

“So we wait until the stupid jerkbender can go two hours without being sedated, we take him out of prison and do all those things to make him Fire Lord, and then we beat him up until he does what we say,” Sokka shrugged.

“He’s not imprisoned. He hasn’t been for months. He only _thinks_ he is. …And he is, also, physically in prison,” Iroh admitted. “He requested to be moved back there, and Aikoyo refused to let me prevent it. Perhaps he might begin to improve if you would try to heal him, Miss Katara?”

“No way,” Katara laughed. “The only healing he needs is a good kick in the—I’m sorry, I know he’s your nephew, I just—“

“He’s hurt you. He’s made many mistakes. He’s done bad things,” Iroh said. “Which is only going to make our task harder, but it does not change the necessity of the task.”

“Where do we start?” Aang asked.

Iroh looked uncomfortable. “I have to challenge Azula for the throne. We need an official Fire Lord making decisions, not having one is worse than having me in charge.”

————————————————————————

Zuko woke up and his whole body hurt, which was an unfortunate indication that he was going to remain awake for a while. He was still in his cell, but the door was ajar, which was annoying, but not as upsetting as the discovery that half the wall had been exploded away, the metal bars twisted all over the floor. Aikoyo was sleeping in a chair next to the _hospital bed_ that Zuko was in, and he was close to panicking but he didn’t want anyone to force him to drink any more tea, so he took deep breaths and tried to remember the breath control lessons Uncle had always talked about.

He wasn’t quiet enough. Aikoyo woke up and put her hand on her sword before she realized it was just him and relaxed. _I’m not even a threat,_ Zuko realized. _That’s how absolutely useless I am to Uncle. No wonder he’s going to trade me to the Avatar._

“Try to breathe, Prince Zuko,” Aikoyo said, and she was using his title. Why was she doing that? Iroh must have restored it to make Zuko a more valuable hostage. “Do you remember what’s going on?”

“Fire Lord Iroh came to visit me in my cell,” Zuko said. Aikoyo almost corrected him, that Iroh _hadn’t_ been Fire Lord when he came, but while Zuko had slept, Iroh had challenged Azula for the throne, and she hadn’t shown up. Iroh _was_ now the Fire Lord, and he’d quietly reinstated Zuko’s title. Now the majority of the Fire Nation would never need to know it had been gone in the first place.

“What happened after that?” Aikoyo asked. This was a test, Zuko _knew_ it was a test, and he was going to fail. He could barely remember what happened after that, he didn’t even know how much time had passed since then. It couldn’t have been long, or everything would hurt less.

“I interrupted the Fire Lord,” Zuko said, looking down at his hands. “I can’t even apologize right.” He looked up at her, and seemed to sense that she wanted him to keep talking, so he kept going. “Um. I guess he punished me?” This came out as a question. Zuko didn’t think the Uncle Iroh he remembered would punish him for speaking out of turn, but now Iroh was the Fire Lord, and clearly their relationship had changed. And Zuko’s leg was broken, again. The same one that had gotten broken under Ozai’s orders not long after Zuko was first imprisoned. This was a lesson, and suffering was supposed to be Zuko’s teacher. Iroh was now the school principal, that was the only difference. The metaphor got away from Zuko and he chalked it up to the sleeping drugs still in his system.

“The Avatar and his friends broke into the prison. There was a fight,” Aikoyo said.

“I don’t remember that,” Zuko said, trying not to panic. “I’m sorry.” Aikoyo didn’t _look_ like she was going to hurt him. She probably couldn’t without Iroh’s orders. Unless Iroh had already given them. Zuko breathed slowly and tried to concentrate on not hyperventilating.

Aikoyo said some more words. Zuko tried to listen, but it blurred together. There were new rules. No more “don’t speak unless spoken to,” no more “stay in the cell or leave the Fire Nation forever,” no more “try to escape and whichever general most needs to prove his loyalty to Ozai will break your leg.” Now it was “you’ve never been mistreated or kept prisoner,” and “you will act as the Fire Lord without the title or the crown,” and “say something Iroh doesn’t like out of turn and he’ll break your leg.” Zuko did his best to understand what Aikoyo was saying. If he didn’t know the rules, how could he be expected to follow them?

Zuko gathered that Fire Lord Iroh was playing a game of pretend with the Avatar. Zuko’s part was to pretend to be a real prince, probably so that the Avatar would accept him when the trade finally went down. The biggest rule seemed to be “contradict what anyone says, even if they’re a guard or one of the Avatar’s friends, and you’ll be drugged until you can “properly remember” what’s going on.” Zuko could follow these rules. He could pretend. But he hoped they wouldn’t ask him to do it for long. He looked at the twisted metal bars on the ground, the last barrier of safety that had kept him away from Fire Lord Iroh’s notice, ad he wished he could go back to a few months ago when the guards still locked the door and everything was quiet and _safe_. Aikoyo asked a question.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you,” Zuko said.

“I asked if you were feeling all right,” Aikoyo said.

Zuko heard her. She wanted to know if he was ready to go along with Iroh’s game, or if she needed to drug him again. He shifted slightly and felt the weight of bindings keeping his broken leg together. Ozai hadn’t permitted a cast the last time. “I feel fine,” Zuko smiled. She wouldn’t be able to tell it was a lie—people were never able to tell; the scar was like a permanent mask. “I’m fine,” Zuko said again, and he thought about how this time he _was_ given a cast, and he almost managed to believe it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MuffinLance if you're reading this, you're doing the Lord's Work writing ocs that want to break Zuko's legs and Zuko that just wants to nap on fluffy Appa. Everything you write is a gift and I cannot stop thinking about it. Thanks for making this AU that I then made another AU for
> 
> If you're not MuffinLance, PLEASE read Towards the Sun


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who commented and left kudos! It means so much to me, and I'm trying to reply to all of you. Even if all I comment is a happy face, know that its because I am literally so grateful for your support. Here we go, chapter 2!

“Ms. Bei Fong and I have discussed, and we’ve decided to have another briefing,” Iroh said. Fire Lord Iroh, Sokka remembered—the day before, at noon (when the sun was highest), Iroh stood in the Agni Kai arena and challenged Azula in absentia. She didn’t come back from wherever she was to dispute, and Iroh became the Fire Lord. From inside the palace, not much changed except that Iroh was now constantly escorted by the Royal Guard. Outside the palace, Sokka guessed that the Fire Nation was reeling. This was their fourth Fire Lord in just a few months, right? No amount of formal protocol was going to make _that_ seem okay.

“It has come to our attention that _some_ people,” and as Toph said this she flicked a pebble into Sokka’s face (“OW! Hey!”) “That _some_ people didn’t pay attention to the _first_ briefing about being rich in the Fire Nation.”

“Why are you targeting _me_?” Sokka said, rubbing his head.

“No one in particular is being targeted,” Iroh said, seriously.

“And if we _were_ targeting someone, which we’re _not,”_ Toph smiled and elbowed Iroh conspiratorially, “it would be _you,_ Sugar Queen.”

“That’s unfair,” Katara sniffed.

“Yeah!” Sokka said. “That’s unfair! _I’m_ the only one here who can seduce royalty, _I_ should be targeted! Someone needs to tell me to keep it in my pants! OW! Toph, if you hit me with another rock, I’m gonna—“

“You’re gonna be _quiet_ and listen to Iroh’s plan,” Toph said, crossing her arms. “And you’d _better_ keep it in your pants.”

“You’ve been very quiet, Aang,” Iroh said. “Is everything all right?”

“…I went to see him while he was in the hospital,” Aang said, awkwardly. “I was just thinking about that.”

“What about it?” Iroh asked.

Aang glanced quickly at Katara, then looked away. “He’s got a bunch of bandages over his stomach. Like I had, when…” he trailed off.

“Who would have hit Zuko with lightning?” Katara scoffed. “It’s probably just…um…”

“You have a discerning eye,” Iroh nodded at Aang. “My nephew does indeed posses a lightning scar similar to your own.”

“What happened?” Aang asked.

“That is not the subject of this briefing,” Iroh said, “but I’m sure that he will feel comfortable discussing the circumstances once you become friends.”

“Um, _what?_ ” Sokka coughed. “You think we’re gonna just become _friends_ with Fire Lord Burned-Down-Kyoshi-Island?”

“I am asking you, as _my_ friends, to make an attempt to be _nice_ to him,” Iroh nodded. “ _That_ is the subject of this briefing.”

“There is _no way_ we’re going to listen to your rules about how to be nice to the guy who _hunted Aang all over the world,_ ” Sokka said. “Right Katara?”

“Sokka’s right,” Katara said. “Before, when we were in Ba Sing Se, he did the same thing he’s doing now. He pretends to be weak and sad and helpless, and he gets you to pity him, and then as soon as you let your guard down, he _attacks._ Killing the Avatar at the negotiating table would be a _great_ way to reassert the Fire Nation’s power.”

“I can’t believe _I’m_ the blind one,” Toph sighed. “Does anyone here honestly think he’s _faking_ being a ball of pathetic sadness? I’m literally a lie detector, and I’m telling you he’s _not._ ”

“You’re right, no one from his family has _ever_ fooled your senses before,” Sokka rolled his eyes. “I bet Fire Lord Jerky Jerk-face is a purple platypus-bear too, just like his jerk sister.”

“Great point, if I hadn’t already proved I can tell when he’s lying.”

“Oh yeah? How?”

“When he said he was fine!””

“Iroh, are you seriously asking us to _forgive_ Zuko? After _everything_ he’s done?” Katara said. “Aang, tell him.”

“I can’t honestly say I will forgive him. Um, I can’t even promise that I’ll try very hard,” Aang said. “There’s still a lot I don’t understand. You should give us your briefing, and then we’ll talk about whether or not we’ll talk to Zuko.”

“I’m sure you’ll come to the right decision,” Iroh smiled. “Because I’ve asked him to join us for tea, he’ll be here shortly.”

“Ughhhhhhhhhh, I don’t wanna dooooo that,” Sokka groaned.

“It’s okay, Sokka,” Katara said, twirling a sphere of water over her hand. “We’ll do what Aang said, we’ll listen, and then we’ll decide what to do.” She crunched her hand into a fist and the water turned into icy spikes.

“Just so we’re entirely clear, your options are to be kind and respectful to my traumatized nephew, or excuse yourself,” Iroh said, very seriously. “There is a time and place to discuss violence, Miss Katara, and it is _not_ here.”

“Whatever,” Katara said, spiraling her water ball back into her waterskin.

“Here comes the “Zuko’s had a difficult life” speech again,” Sokka muttered.

“Zuko has had a difficult summer,” Iroh said.

“We get it, his dad burned his face off—”

“Sokka, be _QUIET,_ ” Iroh yelled, and he was larger than life, he was the Dragon of the West and he was _not_ to be messed with. The moment passed, and he just looked like a sad, old, man again. “While I was away, helping Aang learn firebending, my nephew committed treason. Without me to protect him, he’s been paying the price for _months,_ alone. Years ago, I couldn’t protect my son, and learned nothing, because I knowingly abandoned Zuko not long ago. The guards won’t even tell me everything that’s happened, because there’s so _much_ of it. This is the second time he’s had his leg broken since he was imprisoned, and now it’s my responsibility that it’s broken again. My nephew hates me, he is _afraid_ of me, and I can understand _why!_ ” Iroh took a deep breath. “So we’re inviting him to sit in the sun, and drink tea amongst friends, and I will practice firebending with him if he’s feeling up to it, and we’re going to do all the things he used to love…” Iroh trailed off. He’d started crying, somewhere in his speech.

“I’m sorry,” Sokka said quietly. “…I know he means a lot to you.”

“I wanted to be there when he realized the truth about his father,” Iroh said. “I should have been here.”

“It’s not your fault,” Toph said, patting his shoulder. She glared in the direction of Aang, Katara, and Sokka. “We’re all going to remember that Zuko is a _person,_ and he’s _not_ his father, right everyone?”

“Yes,” everyone mumbled.

Iroh wiped away the last of his tears and straightened up. “One last warning, I sent him the Fire Lord’s crown to wear today. I think it will help him understand that he’s in control of his life again, since he hasn’t had that for so long.”

Sokka coughed, but suppressed whatever he was going to say when Toph threatened him with another pebble.

——————————————————————

Zuko didn’t bother explaining that he didn’t want to do this. What would be the point? Aikoyo brought the Fire Lord’s crown and an invitation to tea with the Avatar and company. It felt like a sick joke. It was way out of his comfort zone. He took deep breaths, and reminded himself that he _used_ to be perfectly capable of taking to strangers, and even enemies. He’d faced down Zhao, surely he could talk to _kids._ And if this weird mandatory tea party felt like a punishment, maybe it was _meant_ to be, and if it was, there was no way Zuko would _ever_ let on that he was hurting.

“I can inform the Fire Lord you’re not feeling well,” Aikoyo said. It was a great reminder that the crown Zuko held was just a prop, and that Iroh was controlling every move of this, like some kind of giant Pai Sho game. Was this the moment Zuko’s pawn would be sacrificed to the Avatar? It was killing him not to know when the other shoe would drop, but he’d come to terms with it. He was dressing up to be the Fire Lord until Iroh made a deal with the Avatar, revenge on Zuko in exchange for letting Iroh keep his bending, or something like that.

Zuko shook his head “no,” and pinned the crown into his hair. “I will face this with honor,” he said. He wished he could walk; he’d have just a little bit more dignity. Instead, he remained lying in the hospital bed, and Aikoyo wheeled it out of the safety of the prison, up the staircase (and this took some doing, with the assistance of several guards, and it was very embarrassing) and down a long hallway out to the courtyard.

As Aikoyo pushed the hospital bed into the open air, Zuko closed his eyes. The sun was warm and soothing, like sitting in a hot bath. It was relaxing. He was surprised how much he’d missed it—how long had it been that he’d started to prefer darkness over _this?_

“Zuko,” Aikoyo whispered, nudging him gently with the end of her sword. He opened his eyes. He was on fire.

“Shit,” he said, and he spent the next few minutes trying to pat himself out and calm down enough for the fire to go out. The Avatar and his friends and _Uncle_ were all already there, just watching him lose control like a five year old. Aikoyo tried to help, and she stood between him and the others, as if that would stop them from seeing. Zuko finally managed to put himself out, and rubbed his forehead with both hands. He should have expected he’d _react_ to being in the sun after being away so long. He should have meditated before he came up here, he was honestly surprised he hadn’t done any more damage to the blankets he was wrapped in. He was suddenly too hot in all the bedsheets, but he knew he’d never be able to kick them off with his broken leg, so he was just going to have to sweat.

He took a deep breath and looked at the others, standing across from him in the courtyard. This was the first time he’d ever seen them while he wasn’t trying to attack them. He noticed that the waterbender was not-very-subtly putting away a water whip in her waterskin—oh Agni, she was going to douse his flames if he hadn’t gotten them under control, and wasn’t _that_ just the metaphorical icing on the cake that was this debacle. At least none of her friends were in a battle stance, but they were just standing there, looking at him—he could have slapped himself when he realized. He was supposed to make some kind of formal introduction or welcome or something, right? What was he supposed to say? Everything he’d ever learned about politics (which wasn’t a lot) went out the window.

“You are welcome in the Fire Nation, Avatar,” he said, bowing as low as he could from the bed. He really hoped he wasn’t on fire again, his face was burning with embarrassment. What kind of excuse for a greeting was _that?_ No wonder no one responded to it. He sat up again. “My sincerest apologies for my behavior. When I was, uh, hunting you.” Why did he _say_ that? Why was he _like this?!?!_

Uncle nudged the Avatar, who did something like a bow, but it was more like one you’d give to a bending master than anything Zuko recognized from court. “Uh, hi,” the Avatar said. “I’m Aang. But I guess you know that already.”

Zuko hadn’t known that. He only knew Katara’s name (from Ba Sing Se) and Toph Bei Fong (he wasn’t sure how he knew that), and he was pretty sure the other kid’s name was…it started with a “W” for Water Tribe, right? No, that was stupid. And too much time had passed already, he should have reacted to this new information by now.

“It’s nice to meet you under these different circumstances, Avatar Aang,” Zuko said, bowing again. Toph elbowed Uncle when he said this. Zuko ignored that, and soldiered bravely on. He’d practiced exactly one kind of formal encounter in prison, how to lead a council meeting, and that was what he’d do now. “Perhaps we could move inside and discuss the aftermath of my predecessor’s war,” Zuko said. If they were out of direct sunlight he’d have a better chance of controlling his firebending, and he didn’t want to lose anymore face than he already had. Huh. That was funny. “Lose face.” He filed it away, maybe Aikoyo would find it funny if he told her about it later.

“I was hoping we could have an informal chat over tea, nephew,” Uncle smiled, and it was one of those weird smiles that meant “Oh Zuko, I’m quietly disappointed in your life choices.”

Zuko’s heart skipped a beat at the word “tea,” but he thought he managed to keep his face under control. “Um, no tea,” Zuko said, much too quickly. “I’m fine.” Tea always tasted like sleeping drugs these days, and Zuko had already had more than a few fever dreams about someone he couldn’t see forcing him to drink it.

The water tribe boy with the boomerang looked at his friends, then back at Zuko, then back at his friends, and said “if he’s the one who suggested it, are we allowed to talk about negotiations?”

Interesting. Was Iroh in charge of the Avatar’s group, somehow? It wouldn’t be hard to imagine that he’d manipulated his way into control. Though he wasn’t the most powerful bender in the group, bending ability wasn’t the only thing that determined hierarchy, Zuko had learned that from experience.

Iroh nodded his head, and Zuko was wheeled out of the courtyard and into a tea room, followed by Avatar Aang, Katara, Toph Bei Fong, Uncle, and the water tribe boy. He was really going to have to learn that kid’s name.

“Whatever are you feeing up to, we can discuss at your level,” Iroh said, looking at Zuko. Oh yeah—Zuko was supposed to pretend to be in charge.

“I’ve been dictating troop movements for—“ Zuko’s words caught in his throat. He wasn’t sure when he’d started talking to the generals. Aikoyo would know, probably, but he'd had no way to track time. “Um. I’ve been dictating troop movements for a while now. Perhaps we could discuss that.”

“Great,” the water tribe boy said, rolling up his sleeves. “How quickly can you order a retreat out of the Earth Kingdom?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean,” Zuko said. “Strategic withdrawal from Earth Kingdom cities Ozai was targeting is already underway. At least, I ordered it.” It occurred to him that he had no way to check if his orders were actually being followed, and it was possible the withdrawal was not actually underway.

——————————————————————

The rest of the meeting went just as horribly. Uncle requested the curtains to be opened, so they were, and then everything was too bright and Zuko had a headache for the rest of the meeting. Everybody talked at him, and it wasn’t like it was with the generals, because the generals wanted _orders_ and these people wanted _reasons._ Zuko tried to explain that the colonies were part of the Fire Nation now, and that he would protect them. The water tribe boy _screamed_ at this and said Zuko wasn’t trying hard enough to make peace. Every time Zuko looked at Iroh for help, Iroh just sat there, quietly, making facial expressions like anyone would understand what they meant. He never spoke up to support Zuko, which was also _great._ Zuko explained that he was trying to undo the damage his father had done, what more did they want him to do? And Katara popped open the cork on her waterskin, making it _very_ clear what they wanted him to do, and he didn’t mean to but his body reacted instinctively as he tried to duck under the table to get _away_ from her, but he landed on his leg weirdly and it _hurt._ And then she didn’t even attack him, so he’d freaked out for no reason. Every so often, Iroh pulled one of them away from the table and talked quietly, probably maneuvering the last few pieces of his Pai Sho game into place.

They took a break for lunch, and servants brought in food. The water tribe boy yelled something about poison, and took Zuko’s plate from _right in front of him_. The servants brought another plate, and the boy took that one too. And the third one. Zuko looked at Iroh, and Iroh didn’t say anything. Yay. Zuko hadn’t realized that “cooperate or you don’t get food” was a rule, but apparently, it was. Or the water tribe boy made that rule up just now, and Iroh had decided it was fine. Zuko didn’t know which scenario was worse.

The water tribe boy was named Snoozles, or at least, that’s what the Earth-bender girl called him. Snoozles said (through a mouthful of Zuko’s food) that Zuko wasn’t trying hard enough, that Zuko was just issuing orders without thinking about their impact, and didn’t Zuko have people to research that kind of stuff? He said Zuko acted like he was the Fire Lord of the whole world. And of course, _then_ Uncle spoke up and said something about how Zuko’s plan would cause a famine, and Zuko’s heart sunk. Zuko took notes, and had them sent to the clerks. He’d never consulted them before, but now that he was ostensibly not a prisoner anymore, he could even go visit them if he wanted. If he could walk, which he couldn’t.

Maybe tomorrow he would come up with better ideas, he’d said, apologizing a few more times and bowing as much as he could while seated. That should have been the end of the meeting, but it continued for several more hours. They shouted questions at him, and he answered them, and they shouted about the answers. It wasn’t even stuff about troop movements and resources, they just talked about random stuff that didn’t even matter. It was like they were just hanging out, and yet Zuko was forced to be there. He’d underestimated his Uncle, this torture wasn’t anything like what Ozai had ordered, but it grated on him all the same.

Finally, when it got dark, the meeting seemed to be winding up, and the Avatar even _yawned._ For a split second, Zuko relaxed, and his prison cell had never seemed more cozy and peaceful and _quiet,_ he couldn’t wait to lie down—and then Uncle said that he wanted to take care of Zuko, and all those happy thoughts plummeted back to the ground. So Zuko was escorted by Iroh and _several_ guards to the Fire Lord’s rooms. He left the hospital bed and used crutches. This day couldn’t get any worse.

——————————————————————

“I don’t understand you,” Iroh sighed, pouring tea across the table from Zuko. They were in the Fire Lord’s rooms, where Iroh slept now. Zuko still slept in prison. Part of him thought _It used to be Ozai’s fault you were down there, but now it’s Iroh’s fault you’re staying there,_ and another part of him said _It’s your own fault, if you weren’t so pathetic you could be sleeping in a real bed right now, you’re the one who asked to sleep in a prison,_ but both of those thoughts hurt, so Zuko pushed them away. It wouldn’t do for the Fire Lord to see any sign of weakness, anything other than total loyalty in Zuko.

“I’m sorry,” Zuko said, bowing as deeply as he could with his broken leg propped on a chair.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” Iroh said, holding a teacup out to Zuko. Was it drugged? He’d almost managed to avoid Iroh’s offers of tea for a whole day. Key word: almost. Zuko took the cup. _I will prove I’m loyal._ He’d drink it even if it was drugged.

Zuko drank his entire cup of tea. It tasted gross, but it didn’t taste like the sleeping drugs, which was a relatively pleasant surprise. “There _is_ something to be sorry for,” Zuko said. “You don’t like my decisions. You asked me to be Fire Lord, and I’m disappointing you.”

“It’s not that,” Iroh said thoughtfully. “I just think—um, nephew, I thought you didn’t like tea.”

“I don’t,” Zuko said, glaring at him. Iroh must _know_ what he was doing. Two could play that game. “Can I have some more?”

Iroh poured another cup and handed it to Zuko. “As I was saying, I just think that Sokka is correct. Your orders aren’t thought out; you have no long term plan.”

“Isn’t that what you always said, Uncle?” Zuko tried to say it politely but it came out much too sickly sweet. “That I always rush into things without thinking. You were right. I’m sorry.” He drained his second cup of tea and coughed on it. It did _not_ taste good. He wouldn’t ask for sugar or cream, if Iroh wanted him to drink tea then he would _drink tea._ He’d spent a whole day tolerating Iroh’s whims, and by Agni, he wouldn’t stop now. But he was tired, and he _knew_ his annoyance was starting to show through.

“Perhaps if you consulted with some of the clerks—“ Iroh started.

“Oh, you’re right Uncle!” Zuko found himself making sarcastic comments at the Fire Lord. “I’ll go there right away!”

“Stop, Zuko,” Iroh said firmly.

“I’ll just _walk_ there right now,” Zuko said, struggling out of the chair. He stood on his good foot and held the cast a little bit above the floor. He shook with the effort. “Why not, Uncle? How about I walk there right now and talk to the _clerks_ for the next few hours, and I won’t get any sleep tonight so I’m easier to soften up during negotiations tomorrow!”

“Please, nephew, sit down,” Iroh said.

A brilliant, horrible idea occurred to Zuko.

“I wish you felt comfortable enough to tell me when you’re not feeling well,” Iroh said.

“How about I _dance,_ Uncle?” Zuko asked, barely even listening to Iroh anymore. He spoke with the soft wonder of someone going slowly insane. “Is that what you want me to do? Remember that asshole who made you dance, when we were begging for scraps together? I think I still remember the steps you did.” Zuko put weight on his foot and _winced._ He looked around for his crutches. Against the wall, too far away to get on his own.

“I want you to stop this,” Iroh said. He had a weird look on his face. He’d been making weird faces all day, Zuko was sick of it. “I’m not asking you to dance.”

“I’d do it, though,” Zuko said, and as the truth of it washed over him, he _laughed._ “I really would! Isn’t that funny?”

“I’m sorry I brought you in here,” Iroh said, standing. “Clearly you are tired. You need some sleep.”

“Get around to killing me. I’ll sleep forever. Get around to offering me to the Avatar, or am I supposed to suggest that myself, like it’s _my_ idea? Did we waste a whole day talking about nothing because I _didn’t_ suggest your trade?” Zuko shook and leaned against the table so he wouldn’t fall over. It was getting harder to breathe, and the laughter was coming in fits and starts between his gasps for air. “You know I’m no good at pretending. Was that meeting with the Avatar another punishment?” He focused on breathing. He would _not_ pass out.

Iroh had summoned a guard. Somehow, Zuko had missed that. They were now holding Zuko up by the shoulders, keeping him upright. Iroh handed Zuko his crutches and he took them, weakly. “That was _not_ supposed to be a meeting. It was _supposed_ to be a friendly conversation. The only thing I _want,_ Zuko, is to _help_ you.”

“Then I want to go back to my cell,” Zuko said, managing eye contact with his Uncle. “I’m _tired,_ I want to _sleep._ If you really cared you’d let me _stay there_ and I wouldn’t be leading _meetings_ with the _Avatar!”_

Iroh didn’t respond to this. The guard helped Zuko limp out of the room. The heavy door closed behind them, and Zuko slumped. He really was exhausted. The guard picked him up in both arms and carried him back to the prison, which was embarrassing, but not as embarrassing as it would be to fall over on the walk there. The nice hospital bed had been returned, and Zuko was too tired to protest that he wished it wasn’t there, he’d rather sleep on the floor anyway, the floor was cold when he was feverish and this bed wasn’t cold, it was just…soft. Really soft. Someone had changed the sheets. He was asleep almost before his head hit the pillow.

——————————————————————

“Wake up!” Aang yelled.

Zuko responded by sitting bolt upright and screaming “Who’s there?!?!?” as he bent fire in a blast away from him.

Aang planted his feet and bent the fire away form him, following the moves Iroh had taught him. “Sorry, sorry, it’s just me,” Aang said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” He looked at Zuko, who was clutching his leg and squeezing his eyes shut as he winced in pain. “Oops. Did I hurt you?”

Zuko looked up. He looked like he thought Aang was going to kill him. “No,” he said. And then, after a long pause, he said “It’s just my leg. It’s still healing.”

“Sorry,” Aang said, scratching the back of his neck.

“I should be the one who’s sorry,” Zuko said. He shifted in the hospital bed blankets and performed something that approximated a bow. It was an odd sight, with a teenager in the robes of a ruler, sitting in a clean hospital bed in the middle of a prison, and the iron itself was still all bent out of shape, thanks to Toph. “Avatar, I humbly beg your forgiveness for—“

“I need to ask you something,” Aang said, in his most serious tone.

“Of course. Anything,” Zuko said, doing the half-bow again. He was clearly nervous, expecting a punishment.

“Will you go to the temple of the Sun Warriors with me?” Aang smiled as happily as he could, the smile that could make even Katara agree to a detour for fun and games.

“…What?” Zuko asked.

“It’ll be fun! It’ll be a life-changing field trip!” Aang said, smiling harder. _No one_ resisted an Aang smile, not if he did it hard enough.

“Um,” Zuko said, scrunching up his face in confusion. “…you _do_ know that it would be quicker to kill me now, and get it over with.”

“Oh, Tenzin, I’m not going to _kill_ you,” Aang said, rolling his eyes. “We’re gonna have fun!”

“…I think I’d rather be tortured here,” Zuko said. Aang hoped he was joking. “I thought we were having more meetings, today.”

Uncle Iroh had decided that the whole Gaang talking to Zuko all at once was too stressful, and that his own involvement had only convinced Zuko it was a punishment, anyway. Aang _had_ noticed Zuko was uncomfortable yesterday, but he’d thought it was just the way you feel awkward when you’re making new friends. Aang had started to like Zuko, and he _did_ want to get to know him better, maybe even be friends like he was with the others. So Iroh had recommended everyone spend one-on-one time with Zuko, get to know him, maybe take him out of the palace and hang out, just do _not_ mention that Iroh had suggested it. Aang volunteered to be the first one to try it.

“We’re not,” Aang shrugged. “Meetings are boring. I’d rather go on a life-changing field trip!”

“What…what even _is_ a life-changing field trip?” Zuko asked cautiously.

“I had a great idea!” Aang beamed, trying to radiate “your Uncle didn’t put me up to this” energy. “We could hang out, just the two of us, and then we could be friends! And you wouldn’t be scared of me anymore.”

“Um,” Zuko said. There was a long silence as Zuko gave Aang a look that was clearly _supposed_ to be meaningful, but Aang had no idea what it was about. “You can take away people’s bending,” he said, and it _really_ felt like Aang was supposed to understand what was going on.

“Yeah,” Aang said. “I’m not going to do that to you, though.”

“Why should I believe you? I _don’t_ believe you,” Zuko said.

“That’s the point of the field trip! So we can be friends! And _then_ you’ll believe I don’t want to hurt you or anything.”

“Why?” Zuko asked again.

“Look, I’m the Avatar, balance and harmony, yay!” Aang said, flailing his hands around. Zuko visibly winced, so Aang held his hands behind his back sheepishly. “And I’ve been trying to help Ozai’s victims recover.”

“So you’re going to take me to Kyoshi Island and _they_ can get their revenge on me?” Zuko asked angrily. “Or to the Water Tribe? Both the Northern and Southern peoples have reasons to be mad at me. But what, _you_ don’t hold grudges, so you’re gonna take me to someone who does?”

“No,” Aang sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. “Look, are you gonna come with me or not?”

“I really don’t want to,” Zuko said, looking around nervously. “And even if I did, which I _don’t,_ I can’t walk.”

“I know!” Aang said. “That’s why I brought this!”

Zuko looked at Aang, who was gesturing proudly to a wheelchair of some kind, like it was the greatest achievement the Avatar had ever accomplished.

“A wheelchair,” Zuko said, in a flat monotone.

“Yep!” Aang said. “So come on, get in, and we’ll go to the Sun Warrior’s Temple! I mean, um, do you need me to help you into it?”

“I don’t need anyone’s help,” Zuko grumbled. “I’m _not_ getting in that thing.”

——————————————————————

“Why did I agree to this,” Zuko sighed, hoping that his scowl would cover up his blush of embarrassment.

“Because I wouldn’t stop annoying you until you did!” Aang smiled, the very picture of childlike glee.

“Oh, right,” Zuko said, holding his hand over his face as they passed Aikoyo. _Agni,_ this was embarrassing, being pushed around the palace in a _wheelchair_ by a _child._ Aikoyo hid her smile, and Zuko wished he had a hood he could hide in. Aang pushed him into the courtyard, where the flying bison was waiting, eating truly _enormous_ quantities of hay. “Where’s everybody else?” Zuko asked stupidly.

“Oh, um, they were busy,” Aang smiled, clearly lying. Great. And this was yet _more_ evidence that Zuko had lost it, because he was clearly about to get “disappeared” by the Avatar (otherwise why had everyone _politely_ cleared the courtyard to avoid noticing it), and he wasn’t trying to escape. He wasn’t sure if he was listening to the part of him that said _you deserve whatever he does to you, you’ve hurt enough people already, you deserve to die_ or the tiny, tiny part of him that said _maybe he’s telling the truth, he once said he thought you could be friends, and maybe he meant it_ , but whatever the reason, Zuko didn’t breathe fire at the Avatar or try to escape. Maybe the trade had already gone down, anyway, and this was what Iroh wanted, for Zuko to quietly disappear. “Here, let me help you get on Appa,” Aang said, lifting Zuko under the armpits. Zuko should have known not to underestimate the Avatar. The kid was strong.

——————————————————————

“Here, let me help you get on Appa,” Aang said, bracing himself in an earthbender stance to prepare to lift Zuko. Zuko was surprisingly light—the royal robes were the heaviest thing on him. Aang took a closer look at Zuko. He looked like a famine victim, like he’d been starving for months and had only just started putting on weight again. Aang hadn’t noticed that at the weird council meeting yesterday.

Aang jumped with airbending, and placed Zuko as carefully as he could in Appa’s saddle. He jumped down and grabbed the wheelchair, and placed _it_ in the saddle too. He tied it down with some rope, so it wouldn’t fall out while they were flying. “Is there anything else you need?” Aang looked up at Zuko, who had his hand through one of the holes on the saddle. He was petting Appa. He looked a million miles away. “Zuko?”

“What?” Zuko jumped, and bumped his elbow on the saddle. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” He was blushing again. He did that a lot, Aang had noticed.

“I asked if there was anything else you need,” Aang said. “We _are_ going on a field trip, we’ve gotta pack properly.

“Um.” Zuko looked at Aang suspiciously, then answered in a (mostly) normal voice. “If you’re really not going to kill me, and you seriously want to wander around in the Sun Warrior’s Temple, you should get my crutches. It’s easier for me to move around by myself on them.”

“Okay!” Aang said. This was the closest thing yet to excitement Zuko had shown about the idea of the field trip, so Aang would encourage it. He jumped off of Appa, ran at lightning speed back down to the prison, past Aikoyo and some other guards, and grabbed Zuko’s crutches. When he returned to the courtyard, Zuko was mostly out of his royal robes, stripped down to a simpler outfit. He’d gotten the end of some of the fabric tangled around his cast, but most of the silk had already been dumped near Appa’s hay pile. As Aang watched, Zuko kicked off the last piece of the outfit and leaned back against Appa’s head, taking deep breaths.

“That’s a good idea, Zuko!” Aang said. Zuko jumped again, but he recovered faster than he had the first time. He didn’t quite relax enough to return to petting Appa, though. “It’ll be much easier to move around like that!”

“Um, yeah,” Zuko said. Aang clambered onto Appa’s head and grabbed the reigns.

“Appa, yip yip!” Aang said, and Appa lurched into the air. Zuko’s knuckles turned white as he held onto the saddle, and he looked down at the quickly-shrinking palace as Appa flew higher and higher. “I guess you’ve never been flying before!” Aang shouted to be heard over the wind. “Pretty cool, right?”

“I piloted a war balloon before,” Zuko said, after a pause. “…It wasn’t like this, though.” He slipped one of his hands through the same hole in the saddle and tangled his hand in Appa’s fur. “He’s soft.”

“He’s the softest!” Aang smiled. “Appa and I have been through so much together. He’s the best flying bison anyone could ask for!”

“I didn’t think he’d be this soft,” Zuko said, in a soft voice. He cleared his throat and put his hand back on the saddle, embarrassed. “But, um. I thought he’d be faster than this, for some reason.”

Appa made a noise and Zuko jumped, _again_. It was like he was more kangaroo-frog than human. Aang patted Appa’s head. “That’s right, Appa. In our group, we usually start out our missions with a more positive attitude.”

“I’m not _in_ your group,” Zuko said. “You’re thinking of my Uncle. Um, the Fire Lord.”

“You’re on Team Avatar now, hotman,” Aang smiled as wide as he could, the kind that could make Sokka drop his surliest attitude.

“Nobody says that anymore. You talk like a hundred year old man,” Zuko groaned. Still surly. Aang would work on that.

——————————————————————

“Zuko! It’s a dance! We need to—oh,” Aang finished awkwardly. This was now the fourth time Aang had forgotten that Zuko was on crutches with a broken leg, and couldn’t be expected to jump over booby traps without Aang’s help, and stuff like that. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t need you to help me,” Zuko glowered, carrying a rock under one arm as he used one crutch to walk. He dropped it on the ground, and there was a soft _click_ as it depressed a panel. Aang looked around the room. On Zuko’s side, he’d already placed three other rocks on panels, activating them one by one.

“What _are_ you doing?” Aang asked.

“And it’s not a dance, it’s a firebending form,” Zuko said. “You can follow the statues and activate the panels on your side when I’m done.” He was already leaving the room, probably looking for more rocks.

“I’ll help you!” Aang said, following.

“I _said,_ I don’t need _help,_ ” Zuko scowled, angrily throwing fire behind him with his free hand, which Aang easily sidestepped.

“We’ll do it together!” Aang said, grabbing a rock off the ground.

“I don’t _want—_ Agni,” Zuko cursed as he tripped over the uneven ground and went sprawling.

“Are you okay?” Aang leaned down.

“I’m _fine,_ ” Zuko hissed, but he was bleeding from a cut on his shoulder, and he was holding his cast in both hands like he was going to heal it if he could just focus hard enough. “Why are you so _annoying?”_

“What do you mean?” Aang asked.

Zuko gestured at the general confusing nature of the universe. “We’re _actually_ at the Sun Warrior’s Temple. You _didn’t_ take me to Kyoshi Island or the Water Tribe, you’re just _talking_ to me. I hunted you all over the world!”

“Yeah,” Aang shrugged. “Are you gonna do it again?”

“No!” Zuko snapped, and then put his face in his hands. “But you can’t trust me. You _should_ kill me.”

“I’m not gonna,” Aang said, sitting down on the ground next to Zuko. “We’re friends now. I’m gonna prove it.”

“How?” Zuko asked.

“I don’t know,” Aang shrugged again. Zuko groaned. “But I’m going to start by helping you carry rocks into the temple, because that was a good idea. But you don’t only have value because you move rocks for me!”

“Keeping me around for my good ideas?” Zuko asked sarcastically.

“Nope,” Aang said. “You just…have value. That’s something all people have. Even if you don’t realize it.”

“Can’t wait to see how you prove that one to be true,” Zuko said, shifting his crutch under him. “Don’t help me get up, I—“ Aang had already used airbending to get Zuko back on his feet. Foot. “—got it,” Zuko finished.

“You don’t have anything to prove to me, this is about _me_ proving to _you_ that we’re gonna be friends now, okay?” Aang said, and held out his hand.

Zuko didn’t know if he could trust Aang as a friend, but at the very least, he was at peace. It would be okay if Aang killed him, or turned him over to someone else to do it, or sent him somewhere to get tortured, that would be okay, because Zuko deserved whatever Aang thought was fair. And somehow, if Aang thought it was fair to drag Zuko around and be nice to him, Zuko would find a way to take that punishment and live with it. Even if it turned out not to be a punishment. Zuko realized he’d been staring at nothing for too long, and that Aang was still waiting for an answer. Zuko also realized he’d been calling him “Aang,” not “The Avatar.” So he shook Aang’s hand, and said, “okay.” And then Aang helped him carry in enough rocks to activate half the room, so Aang could complete the dance on the other side.

——————————————————————

Appa landed in the courtyard, passengers dripping with black goop that had only been _mostly_ scraped off. Aikoyo was waiting for them, and nobody else was. Aang hoped that Zuko wouldn’t notice this was for _his_ benefit. Iroh had specifically forbidden everyone from talking to Zuko at the same time after the previous day’s debacle. Aang was kind of glad they’d left the palace all day, they must have missed Iroh chewing out Sokka for the way he acted the day before.

“Did you have fun?” Aikoyo asked.

“Yeah!” Aang said, jumping down from Appa.

“Prince Zuko?” Aikoyo called up.

“Shhh!” Aang said. He pointed. The top of Zuko’s head was barely visible. He was sleeping, mouth wide open, on Appa’s back. Appa slowly lowered his tail and Zuko slid down, still asleep.

“That’s adorable,” Aikoyo whispered to Aang. “But don’t tell him I said so.”

“Do we just leave him there?” Aang asked.

“Your bison seems happy with that,” Aikoyo shrugged, “and I’ve been ordered to encourage him to spend more time outside of the prison. There’s really not enough sunlight down there.”

“Got it,” Aang said. “We let him sleep.” Zuko snored loudly, and Aang stifled a giggle.

“What did you do at the Sun Warrior Temple, anyway?” Aikoyo asked.

“What happens at the temple stays at the temple,” Aang winked, wiping more black goo off of his shoulder.

——————————————————————

Zuko woke up at sunrise. He shivered. Had he been outside all night? He shifted slightly, and sunk back into the softest thing he’d ever felt. It was the Avatar’s bison’s tail, where he’d apparently spent the night. There was a blanket over him, and he just _knew_ no one would admit to putting it there if he asked. He yawned, and he heard Appa make soft snuffling sounds. He considered getting up, but his leg was still broken, and he didn’t know where the crutches were. Probably up in Appa’s saddle, still. That was a good enough excuse not to move, so he cuddled closer to the bison and went back to sleep.

——————————————————————

A few days later, Zuko woke up and realized that he _didn’t_ have any meetings or anything scheduled, now multiple days in a row. Since they’d gone to the temple together, Aang had started visiting, and he talked a whole bunch about nothing, and asked Zuko for his opinion every so often. Aang usually slept long past sunrise, though. Zuko realized that Aang’s bison was probably sitting alone in the courtyard, maybe _it_ was sleeping past sunrise too. Maybe it wanted company. It was really soft.

“Aikoyo, can I go up and visit the bison?” Zuko asked when she brought him some breakfast.

“Of course,” she said. “I believe he’s near the turtleduck pond this morning. You don’t have to ask permission, your Highness; you are no longer a prisoner.”

“Okay,” Zuko said. “Maybe one of these days I _will_ believe you, Aikoyo.” She made a happy facial expression when she heard this. Zuko didn’t notice.

Zuko ate (and for the first time in a long time, he actually felt hungry enough to eat) and then carefully crutched his way out of the cell (if it could still be called that) and up the stairs. He didn’t encounter anyone except for Aikoyo, who walked with him a respectful distance away in case he needed any help. Aikoyo said a silent prayer of gratitude that Zuko was slow enough that it wasn’t hard for servants, guards, and the visiting benders-plus-one-nonbender to avoid him, per Iroh’s orders that no one was to scare Zuko back into hiding. If Zuko wanted to do something, everyone would get out of his way and let him do it at his own speed.

Today, Zuko wanted to hang out with the Avatar’s bison. He made it to the turtleduck pond and sat on one of Appa’s legs. Appa was still ridiculously unfairly soft. It was a ploy to get Zuko to lower his defenses, and it was working.

“I told you Appa liked you!” Aang said.

Zuko was getting better about not jumping out of his skin every time Aang snuck up on hm with his sneaky airbender stealth. “Well, I guess you were right,” Zuko grumbled, hiding his face in Appa’s fur.

“Was I right about us being friends yet?” Aang asked, jumping down from Appa’s head.

“Do I have a choice about that?” Zuko sighed, but it didn’t have that angry feel that usually accompanied his words.

“Yep,” Aang said. “I’ll leave if you want.”

Zuko moved his head out of Appa’s fur and looked at Aang. He squinted suspiciously. “Really?”

“Yep!” Aang smiled.

“…You can stay,” Zuko said, “but I’m going to take a nap, so don’t expect me to talk to you.”

“What happened at the temple stays at the temple,” Aang smirked. Zuko put his face back in Appa’s fur.

——————————————————————

Katara came to the Fire Nation palace fully prepared to kill Zuko. She would have fought her way through as many soldiers as the Fire Nation could send. She wanted to look him in the eye, and say something cool about how she’d seen who he really was beneath his Ba Sing Se persona, she’d seen who he _really_ was past that “feel bad for me, my mom died” thing he’d done to manipulate her, and now she’d come for him and he was going to _regret_ what he did to Aang.

She’d made Sokka and Toph _promise._ If it needed to be done, they’d kill Zuko together. One of them would make _sure_ he’d never hurt anyone again. When they landed in the courtyard, she’d already popped the cork on her waterskin, ready for the fight she _knew_ was coming. When Iroh left with the guard, she realized that it was going to be a more difficult fight than she realized, because Zuko was apparently hiding somewhere, like a _coward._

She almost did it, in the prison cell. Everyone had fallen over themselves, but she was still standing. She could feel the water in his blood rushing. It would have been so easy to cut off his circulation, and no one would ever know. She’d imagined turning his blood into the same spikes she’d practiced in her water whip a hundred times before. She could have exploded one of his lungs, or filled them with water, or done something more _visible,_ so everyone would know it was her. She hesitated for just a moment, because before they’d come to the Fire Nation, she’d imagined doing all these things to Fire Lord Zuko, and this wasn’t him, this was a teenager the same age as Sokka unconscious on the floor of a prison. Then somebody grabbed her arms, and she vowed that the second she got free, she wouldn’t hesitate, she’d kill Zuko before he could hurt anyone ever again.

She couldn’t do it. They were escorted from the prison before Zuko woke up, and she didn’t kill him. She sat alone with him in the hospital (they’d asked her if she wanted to try healing him) and he was strapped down to the bed, and she didn’t kill him. He was having a nightmare, while she was there. She left without healing him. He’d given Aang plenty of nightmares, maybe he deserved some of his own. Iroh said they were going to have tea with Zuko, and Zuko acted like it was a treaty negotiation, and Katara didn’t kill him when he explained that the Fire Nation controlled the ocean between the colonies. Iroh said that meetings were cancelled, and everyone should try to be Zuko’s friend, and Katara didn’t say anything, even though she hated this idea. Aang said he was going to take Zuko on a field trip, and Katara didn’t sneak down to Zuko’s cell the night before they went to kill him before he killed Aang.

Then they came back from their field trip, and Aang bounced around happier than she’d seen him in a while, and Zuko took the occasional nap on Appa. Appa seemed to like him. Zuko hadn’t killed Aang, or hurt him, or done anything particularly horrible. Aang insisted that Zuko had been nothing but helpful at the temple, even to the point of hurting himself, and Katara didn’t quite believe him, but Aang clearly believed what he was saying. Not long ago, Aang was waking up in the middle of the night with _nightmares_ that Zuko was coming for him, and now he was bothering Zuko with questions about Fire Nation culture. Aang had decided he was friends with Zuko, and Katara decided it was her turn to talk to him. Iroh _said_ they should let Zuko see the real Team Avatar, right? The real Katara was a badass who would kill Zuko the second he stepped out of line, and she would be okay if he got to know that abut her.

One day, she waited until he went back to his cell. She didn’t want to approach him on Appa, for worry that he’d burn the bison when she threatened him, so she waited for him to limp back to his stupid prison cell on his stupid crutches, and it took forever, because apparently his leg really _was_ broken. It was hardly a cell anymore, not since Toph had metalbent the bars all over the place and refused to replace them. The guards left when she asked them to—she was a friend of Fire Lord Iroh. Even Aikoyo stalked out of earshot. Zuko sat on what used to be the floor of his cell, pointedly acting like the hospital bed taking up most of the tiny space wasn’t there.

Zuko jerked his head up when he heard Katara’s footsteps, then he relaxed again. Katara hated this. Did he really think she was so little of a threat? She’d heal his broken leg just to prove she could take him down singlehandedly in a fair fight. She glared at him and popped the cork on her waterskin, just a little reminder for him that she was dangerous.

“Thank you for coming,” Zuko said. He was shifting out of his sitting position, moving his legs under him. It was a slow movement, and clearly uncomfortable for him. “I expected to see you sooner after the meeting.”

“You might have everyone else here buying your ‘weakness,’ but you and I both know you’re faking it. So let me tell you something right now. You make one step backward, one slip-up, give me one reason to think you might hurt Aang, and you won’t have to worry about your destiny anymore. Because I’ll make sure your destiny ends right then and there. Permanently!” She’d practiced this speech so many times. It didn’t quite have the effect she’d wanted.

“Good,” Zuko said. “I understand.” He finished positioning his legs and bowed, forehead touching the floor.

“Um, good,” Katara said.

“I’m ready,” Zuko said, still on the ground.

“What?”

“The Avatar is an air nomad. He chooses nonviolence, and I respect that. He wouldn’t kill me, and it looks like he doesn’t even want to take my bending. I’d call it weakness, if not for the fact that he’s the Avatar, so apparently he can do what he wants.” Zuko looked up and made eye contact with Katara. “You’re Water Tribe. You have no cultural prohibition against killing. I’ve hurt a lot of people, Katara.”

“I know you have,” she said, working up the anger again. “You threatened my grandmother the first time I ever saw you!”

“I’m sorry,” Zuko said. “And I understand you have to kill me.” He closed his eyes.

“This is a _threat,_ ” Katara said. “If you ever hurt anyone ever again—“

“—and I _will,_ ” Zuko said. “You heard what your brother thinks of me—I’ve been ordering troops around like I _am_ the Fire Lord. I haven’t been making good decisions. I’ve never made a good decision in my life.”

“You can’t seriously be _trying_ to get me to kill you,” Katara scoffed.

“I’m sorry,” Zuko said again.

“Don’t…don’t apologize, it’s creepy,” Katara sighed.

“Did my uncle tell you to kill me or not?” Zuko asked, bluntly.

“Um, he didn’t,” Katara said. “He told me specifically not to threaten you, actually.”

“You didn’t listen? You must be more powerful than I realized if you can disobey the Fire Lord,” Zuko said, bowing again.

“Stop bowing!” Katara said. She was getting frustrated. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. Zuko was supposed to scowl like she always remembered, not sit there with a blank face and politely _ask for it._

“I’m telling you I’m okay with it,” Zuko said. “I’ve hurt a lot of people. I’ve _killed_ a lot of people. The Fire Nation killed your mother. It would be justice.”

“It wouldn’t be,” Katara said bitterly. “ _You_ didn’t kill my mother.”

“I—“

“No, just stop talking for a second, okay, stop _talking_ ,” Katara said, rubbing her forehead. She put the cap back on the waterskin. Zuko closed his mouth. “And sit up, you’re hurting yourself,” Katara said, gesturing at the way he’d twisted his broken leg under him to bow. He looked like he was going to protest, but she glared at him, and he sat up. He leaned against the wall. Katara sighed and pinched the top of her nose to stave off a headache. “You really just wander around thinking everyone is going to hurt you?” Katara asked. Zuko opened his mouth, then closed it again. “You can talk,” Katara sighed.

“I don’t wander around, my leg is broken,” Zuko said.

It was exactly the type of thing Sokka would have found hilarious. Katara laughed, despite herself. Zuko flinched at the sound. “You really believe that, though?” she asked, curious.

“I deserve it, don’t I?” He said pathetically, and she rolled her eyes.

“Maybe, but you’ve gotta know by now that no one’s gonna do it,” Katara said. She sat down on the hospital bed and looked at him.

“Someone will,” Zuko said, after a long pause. “Eventually. I mean, I’ve made enemies all over the world, at least a few of them are going to show up someday and want revenge. And I can’t be the Fire Lord, so I’m just a dangerous hanger-on until someone in court finds a better scapegoat than me. And—” He looked up at her nervously, as if surprised he’d said so much, and clammed up again.

“And what?” Katara asked. “Keep going.”

“It’s nothing, nothing you’d care about, I’m sorry—“

“What would you do if I ordered you to tell me?” Katara asked.

Zuko took a deep breath. “I’d tell you. I just _said_ I’d let you kill me, didn’t I?” It came out with just a _touch_ of the anger Katara remembered from other encounters with him.

“Okay. I’m not ordering you,” Katara shrugged. She gathered herself. She couldn’t believe she was about to say this. Aang’s forgiving personality must be rubbing off on her. “But if we’re gonna be friends now, I’ve got a really good idea.”

“What’s with the Avatar and _friends,”_ Zuko groaned. “I was fine by myself.”

“You’re in a prison,” Katara pointed out, “With a broken leg. So you’re _not_ fine. And I _am_ ordering you to stop telling me you deserve it, because that’s getting _really_ annoying.”

There was a long silence. Katara smiled, carefully avoiding eye contact with Zuko, who had his head in his hands, trying to resist the temptation.

“…What is it,” Zuko grunted out.

“What is what?” Katara asked sweetly.

“Your idea,” Zuko said. “I guess I want to hear it, or whatever.” He didn’t look at her. He scowled at a piece of lint on the floor.

“Let’s find someone you’re scared of and beat them up,” Katara said. Zuko made a face. “We’re gonna stop your “eventually.” Whoever is threatening you, let’s _beat them up._ ”

“ _You’re_ threatening me,” Zuko pointed out.

“Yeah, yeah, you know what I mean,” Katara said, waving her hand. “What I mean is, if I could put the fear of _me_ into anyone in the world, I’d find the man who killed my mom,” she said, very seriously. “Who would _you_ talk to? Or want _me_ to give a talking-to for you.”

“A lot of people who’d want to kill me are your friends,” Zuko said carefully. There was something in his facial expression that said “but.”

“…But?” Katara prompted.

“…But Azula brought Long Feng to the capital city a while back,” Zuko admitted. “He wants to kill me, and I’m pretty sure he’s not one of your friends.”

“If he’s working for your sister, why would he want to kill you?” Katara asked.

“He’s working for my sister. Why would he _not_ want to kill me?” Zuko laughed.

Katara thought something along the lines of _now we don’t have time to unpack ALL of that_ and said “Well, you’re in luck. I’m _not_ friends with the Dai Li, and I _would_ like to kick Long Feng’s ass anyway, so we might as well do it together, right?”

“Why?” Zuko said, his tone somewhere between suspicious and defeated. “What would be the point?”

“If he’s dead, he can’t hurt you. If he can’t hurt you, you don’t have to be afraid of him. And I’d be proving to you that _I’m_ not going to hurt you by protecting you from a threat.”

“…It would be faster to skip that and just kill me,” Zuko suggested, half-joking. She hoped he was joking, at least.

“Probably, but I guess I’m forcing you to be friends with me instead. And _shut up_ about that, I don’t want to hear it from you _and_ Sokka. I know this is a bad idea, I’m doing it anyway.”

“I said this to Aang too, but I just wanted to remind you—I can’t walk,” Zuko said.

“That sounds like you’re agreeing to go with me!” Katara smirked, elbowing him.

“I guess I am,” Zuko sighed. “Do you have a plan for moving me around, or do we have to do _my_ bad idea?”

“What’s _your_ bad idea?”

——————————————————————

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Katara asked. She tied on the last little strap, securing Zuko’s leg in place.

“No. Are _you_ sure we’re allowed to leave?” Zuko asked, wincing as he adjusted the pocket into a more comfortable position.

“I’m sure,” Katara said, rolling her eyes. “The Fire Lord isn’t in charge of me, and _you’re_ allowed to go wherever you want.”

“Oh, sure,” Zuko said, sarcastically, but he didn’t protest any further.

“Have you done this before?” Katara asked.

“Oh yeah, plenty of times,” Zuko said, tying his Blue Spirit mask over his face. “One time I broke Aang out of Pohuai Stronghold. And I’m _really_ quiet. I’m the one who freed your bison at Lake Laogai, I bet you didn’t even know I was there.”

“That was _you?_ People got _hurt_ going down there to rescue Appa, and he wasn’t even there!”

“That’s not my fault,” Zuko said awkwardly, clearly ready to take the blame for it anyway.

“My friend Jet _died,”_ Katara said.

“Wait, Jet?” Zuko said. “Weird hair, stick coming out of his mouth, hates the Fire Nation?”

“Yeah,” Katara said, surprised. “You know him?”

“Jet _died?”_ Zuko was incredulous.

“Well, it was kind of unclear. He _might_ have survived,” Katara backtracked.

“Woah. Um, that’s _not_ my fault, right?” Zuko said, nervously. “A lot of things are, but that seems like it’s on you guys. I mean, it’s on Jet! I mean—“

“It’s not on you,” Katara said. “It’s on the Dai Li who brainwashed him. It’s on Long Feng, and we’ll make sure he never hurts anyone again. But I actually wasn’t acting if you’d done _this_ before,“ she gestured to the Blue Spirit costume, “I was asking if you’ve done _this_ before,” and she gestured to Zuko’s leg. Zuko had a scarf in with his Blue Spirit stuff, which Aikoyo had helped them find in the “confiscated property” area of the prison. Katara was really uncomfortable with the reminder that while she’d been training to kill his father, Zuko had been sitting in prison, but Zuko seemed not to care, and pawed through his stuff like he’d never been away. The scarf had weird hanging pieces and holes through it, but they weren’t tears—it had been sewn that way. Zuko managed to get most of it on himself, but needed Katara’s help to tie down the last few bits. When assembled properly, Zuko’s broken leg was tied firmly in place, partly secured to his chest but still hanging loose enough to be comfortable.

“Yeah, I’ve had a broken leg before, this is just a better way to hold it if I’m moving around a lot,” Zuko evaded.

Katara chose not to press further. “It makes it easier on crutches?” she asked.

“This isn’t for crutches,” Zuko said. She blinked, and he was gone.

“Wha—?”

“I’m still here!” Zuko yelped. She looked up. He’d grabbed onto the wooden crossbeams in the ceiling, and was pressed up into the shadows almost out of sight. He’d moved quickly, _beyond_ quickly, and it was the same speed he’d used to chase down Aang for so long. She squinted. His good leg was wrapped around a beam, and his bad leg hung free. He was mostly supporting himself by his arms.

“How’d you learn to do that?” Katara asked.

“I’ve never been really good at bending, not as good as my sister,” Zuko said. He was still wearing the Blue Spirit mask, and his voice was too monotone for Katara to get a read on how he was feeling. “I had to learn other stuff to compensate.”

“That’s actually really cool.” Katara grabbed a ledge on the wall and tried to lift herself up into the rafters. She couldn’t quite make it, so Zuko grabbed her hand and stabilized her until she found a foothold.

“Thanks, but it’s really not that cool,” Zuko said, looking away. “It’s not something I’m supposed to know how to do. Only non-benders would have to fight like this, it’s not _proper_ for a prince.” He lifted his mask and smiled sheepishly at her. “Now I’m just an ex-prince, so I guess it’s okay.”

“It’s _really_ cool,” Katara said, trying to take a closer look at how he was sitting. He’d readjusted to take Katara’s weight, but he was still crouched so normally she’d never know he wasn’t putting weight on his left leg.

Zuko did a weird half-smile, like he was struggling to accept the compliment. It was the same face Sokka had when Aang had praised his sewing for the first time. “Wait until you see me outside,” was all he said.

“Let’s go outside then,” she said, fixing her black scarf over her nose and mouth. “Let’s find someone who can tell us where Long Feng is hiding.”

——————————————————————

They moved quietly through the city at night, Zuko using his arms and some acrobatics to avoid putting weight on his bad leg. Katara led the way on foot, and Zuko stuck to the shadows. It would be a scandal if anyone saw him like this, with a broken leg, in this Blue Spirit mask, sneaking around…good thing he knew how not to get caught.

Zuko discovered that there was someone in the world more terrifying than Azula. Azula had already done her worst, hitting Zuko with lightning directly in the chest when he couldn’t get away. But what was another scar from a family member compared to what Katara could do?

It was one thing when she intimidated some random people on the street to tell her what they knew about the Dai Li. Anyone could be intimidating, even Zuko could manage it on a good day (the scar helped). Then, when they actually found a Dai Li agent, and it seemed clear that he wasn’t going to talk, Katara _did_ something to him.

“I’ll ask you again. Where’s Long Feng?” Katara glared, twisting her hand sideways and down. It was a waterbending move, but Zuko didn’t recognize it. The Dai Li agent twisted to his knees and then the ground, like Katara was bending _him._

_“What are you doing to me?”_ The agent sounded panicked, but he didn’t move except for that weird, unnatural flowing motion Katara was controlling. For some reason he couldn’t quite place, Zuko remembered a ghost story about a witch who steals away kids nobody likes. He had been pretty sure Azula made it up, especially the part that the witch preferred weak firebenders as victims, because that sounded more like one of Azula’s lies than a true story. True stories didn’t target Zuko’s failures specifically, but Azula’s always did.

“Tell me where Long Feng is,” Katara said, and the agent’s head hit the ground, hard. The witch was supposed to steal your blood or something, Zuko remembered. Was Katara… _bloodbending?_ Was that a thing people could _do?_ Could _all_ waterbenders do that? Could the Avatar? He tucked himself a little further into his hiding spot and contemplated how quickly he could get away on a broken leg, if he had to. She could have killed him so many times before now, he was only just beginning to realize that. No wonder she didn’t have to listen to the Fire Lord. He’d been wrong; _she_ was in charge of the Avatar’s group, not Iroh.

The agent directed them to a building near the city’s sewage outflow. Katara released him, and knocked him unconscious with a kick. She turned back to Zuko and wiped her hands on her pants. “Ready to go?”

“Are we really doing this?” Zuko whispered. “Are we really going after Long Feng?”

“I’m gonna make sure he can’t hurt anyone ever again,” Katara said darkly. Zuko took deep breaths and tried to focus on the idea that if she really wanted to kill him, she’d have done it already. It was a stupid waste of time to pretend she wanted to help him if her real goal was to kill him, and she wasn’t stupid, so she wouldn’t just drag him around for no reason. He did his very best to concentrate on _not_ trying to think of the reasons she might want him out of the palace, _don’t_ think about the witch kidnapping children and how Azula was right that Father wouldn’t look for him if he _did_ go missing—

“Are you okay?” Katara had suddenly gotten way too close and he hadn’t noticed. She had a weird look on her face. She touched his shoulder, gently. “I don’t want to hurt your leg any more than it must hurt already. We can go back, you shouldn’t over-exert it.”

She wouldn’t _do_ this if she hated him. People who hate you can’t help but make it obvious that they do, whether they’re burning off your face or setting down a tea cup too firmly. So Katara was _more powerful_ than the Fire Lord, she _didn’t have to listen to what Iroh said,_ and she didn’t hate Zuko.

“Promise,” Zuko said, letting it out in a whoosh of air that wasn’t at _all_ like the quiet ninja he’d been trying to be. “Um. Would you promise that you won’t…hurt me?” This was a bad idea, and he’d never have any way to know if she was lying, anyway.

“I swear,” Katara said, very seriously, “on the moon and ocean spirits, that I won’t hurt you, ever.”

It looked like she meant it. Hours ago, she’d threatened to kill him, and now she was swearing on her own gods that she wouldn’t touch him. He’d never understand the Water Tribe. But so long as she was in a good mood (and he was assuming she wouldn’t go back on her word), he had to try one more thing. “Will you tell the others? Your friends, I mean. Would you tell _them_ not to hurt me?”

“Sure,” Katara said, and after a pause, she swore that too.

So the world made no sense, because Zuko couldn’t remember the last time somebody in such an overwhelming position of power hadn’t used that to hurt him. She was in charge, and she was guaranteeing no one would hurt him. He hadn’t felt so…opposite-of-threatened in a long time. “Are we going to kill Long Feng?” he asked, and for the first time since they’d planned to do it, he believed that they would.

“Of course not,” Katara said, grinning evilly. “But we _are_ gonna put the fear of me in him.”

——————————————————————

They came back. Katara walked calmly and happily, like she was returning from a workout. Zuko was shaking and had to grip the rafters particularly hard to make sure he didn’t fall. Katara disappeared to wherever she was staying, presumably somewhere in the palace with the rest of the Avatar’s friends. Zuko went back underground, and collapsed facedown on the hospital bed.

“Do I need to get Usoni?” Aikoyo asked, cleaning her weapon and not looking at Zuko.

“No doctors,” Zuko said, and it was muffled by the pillow.

“He’s not a doctor, he’s the guard scheduled for Monday, Wednesday, and Sozinsday mornings,” Aikoyo said.

Zuko managed to flip himself over in the bed, so he was now face-up, looking at the ceiling. “I’m just sore. Haven’t hurt anything else. Leg is fine.”

“Then why are you shaking?” Aikoyo continued to clean her sword, ignoring Zuko’s glare.

“The waterbender,” Zuko said. “She’s…it’s _unreal_ how powerful she is.”

“Did she hurt you?” Aikoyo kept her voice calm, but prepared herself to go “talk” to the visitors. Maybe an accidental fall down some stairs would cut the Avatar’s visit short, like it had for that general all those months ago.

“No,” Zuko said, scrunching his palms into his eyes. “She didn’t hurt me.” He sounded like it was too good to be true, or like he believed he’d dreamed it.

“So much for your theory that the Avatar’s peaceful nonviolence wouldn’t extend to his friends,” Aikoyo said, putting her sword away. She stood up and moved closer, just to double check there were no visible bruises or cuts that Zuko had failed to mention.

“Father always said the Water Tribe was nothing but savages,” Zuko said, rolling up his sleeves. “See, Aikoyo? I’m not injured.”

“Your leg, please, your Highness.”

“Fine,” Zuko said, untying the scarf that had held it in place. “But they’re not. I mean, I knew that already, you should have seen the North Pole…”

Aikoyo shuddered. “Too cold for me, Prince Zuko. I’d never make it. Does this hurt?” She moved his leg gently, bending the knee.

Zuko winced at first, then took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. “It doesn’t hurt like it did. I shouldn’t have tied it so tight. It aches, it’s not like a break, though. And it wasn’t _that_ cold at the North Pole.”

“Zuko, the story about my son needing a binder break had a _point,_ you know,” Aikoyo sighed. She folded the wrappings into a neat bundle. “About the North Pole…You don’t mean that, do you?”

“I untied it, didn’t I? And, I guess not,” Zuko shrugged. “At the time, it was the _worst._ I’d never felt anything like it. I thought I was going to die.”

“I love these little chats we have,” Aikoyo sighed, tucking Zuko’s leg under the blankets.

“I didn’t die, though.” Zuko laughed. “Finally, something I’m better at than Azula! She’ll _never_ get as much practice as me at not-dying, she’s too good at not-getting-into-those-situations.”

“I wish you wouldn’t get into them either.”

“It’s not like I had a choice today,” Zuko protested. “She’s the Avatar’s friend, and I’m supposed to listen to them, Uncle said so. And she could have killed me!” Color drained out of his face as the realization hit him again. “She could have _killed_ me. She could have killed me so many times…before everything, even before the Day of Black Sun. Agni…”

“I’m glad she didn’t.” Aikoyo changed Zuko’s pillow for a new one, and tucked it under his head.

“She didn’t, though,” Zuko said, thoughtfully. “We did just what she said we’d do. She didn’t even kill him, but wow, he’s _not_ going to be a threat ever again. I’d be surprised if he’s still in the city.”

“Who?”

“She said to say “what happens on a field trip stays on a field trip,” Zuko said, awkwardly. “Maybe I said too much already. But…she’s not stupid. And if she wanted to kill me, it would have been stupid to…to treat me like that. She was…nice.”

“So you believe she’s not going to kill you?”

“I guess so.”

“Progress. Maybe one of these days, you _will_ stop asking my permission to move about the palace.”

“Maybe. Do I _really_ have to ask the Fire Lord? I don’t want to.”

“You don’t have to ask anyone, you have free range of the palace.”

“But I’d better not wander around the city alone, because no one wants to see their disgraced prince, especially not looking like a famine victim.” Zuko looked away.

“Don’t say that. Your health improves every day.”

“Yeah. Good night, Aikoyo.”

“It’s morning. On a normal day, you would eat breakfast at this time. It’s already sunrise.”

“I was out all night. Do I get to sleep in, or not?” Zuko glared one of those glares, and Aikoyo couldn’t tell if it was a genuine question or a demand.

“Sleep as long as you like,” Aikoyo smiled, shaking her head. She blew out the candles and torches when she went back to her post, and the windowless cell was in darkness, even though Agni’s light was already illuminating the courtyard.

“Aikoyo?” Zuko asked in a quiet voice.

“Yes?”

“When Azula came last time…it was a Sozinsday morning, right?”

“I believe it was. Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” Zuko said, and she could hear him shifting in his blankets in the dark. Aikoyo made a note to ask someone to check on the bandages over the Prince’s lightning wound, which should be scarring over nicely on his stomach by now. Before long, it would be nothing but an unhappy memory, and it wouldn’t hurt, even if you poked it.

——————————————————————

The next day, after Zuko was fully rested, Fire Lord Iroh requested that the Prince join him for tea. Aikoyo helped Zuko into his formal robes as evening fell over the castle. They were so thick he could barely use the crutches, but he refused help to walk to the Fire Lord’s rooms. He kept his head held high, and his shoulders back, and he moved with dignity. He fell onto Aikoyo once, and she propped him back up on his feet before he could apologize for it. She closed the door to Iroh’s rooms behind him, and though she couldn’t eavesdrop through the thick door, she joined the other guards on duty, at attention in the hall.

“Greetings, Fire Lord,” Zuko said, bowing carefully so he wouldn’t fall off the crutches.

“Hello, nephew!” Iroh smiled, waving from a little table. “Please, come join me!”

Zuko painfully made his way across the room, and by the time Iroh realized Zuko needed help he wasn’t going to ask for, Zuko had already sat down. Iroh, already standing, settled for moving the crutches to a less-likely-to-fall spot near the wall before returning to the table. Zuko glowered silently in his chair.

“I missed you, Zuko,” Iroh said.

“I apologize for causing you concern,” Zuko said tightly, doing a quick half-bow from his seat.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Iroh said, trying to smile reassuringly. He wasn’t sure if he succeeded. There was a weird silence as they looked at each other. “Have you enjoyed getting to know the Avatar personally?” Iroh asked, beginning to pour tea into two cups.

“Did he say something? Has my performance been inadequate?” Zuko asked, tensely.

“Right now, I don’t care what Aang thinks of you, I care what _you_ think of him,” Iroh said, passing Zuko a teacup.

“…I think the Avatar is a wise master of all four elements,” Zuko said, slowly. “His nonviolent methods aren’t like anything I’ve ever seen.”

“What do you think of him as a friend?” Iroh asked, taking a sip from his own cup.

Zuko glared at his teacup like it was the root of all his problems. “He would be a worthy diplomat. The other nations would listen to his recommendations, I think.”

“That’s not what I mean, nephew.”

“I apologize for misunderstanding, Fire Lord,” Zuko did the seated bow again.

“Zuko, nothing has changed,” Iroh said. “I love you, as I have always loved you.” He stood and moved across the table, arms wide to hug Zuko—Zuko, who was as tense and stiff as a wooden board, frozen in his chair, eyes squeezed shut. He’d _flinched,_ visibly, before he could hide it.

“Perhaps I should not have bothered you,” Iroh said, bowing his head sadly. He knew all too well what his brother had done to the boy, and he wouldn’t inflict more suffering now. Even the most well-intentioned hug can be hurtful, if the giver does not understand the receiver’s heart. Iroh wouldn’t touch Zuko, not while the boy was this afraid of him. He didn’t want a repeat of anything like what had happened the last time he had tea with his nephew. “I know your recovery is ongoing. Please, I will not keep you, but you _will_ let me know if there’s anything I can do for you?”

Zuko nodded stiffly, but didn’t speak. Iroh opened the doors and allowed the guards in to help Zuko stand and move out of the rooms. One of the guards was Aikoyo, who was definitely not supposed to be on duty here right now, but she took Zuko’s elbow and the boy breathed easily for the first time since he’d entered. Iroh did his best to remember that the guards were just people, not faceless monsters he could hate on sight. What Iroh really hated was that he’d abandoned Zuko to their mercy when he’d escaped, and hated even more that they were the only people Zuko seemed to trust these days. What had Aikoyo given Zuko that Iroh had failed to do? How was Iroh to win back Zuko’s trust? It was a puzzle that would not be easily solved.

“Everything has changed,” Zuko said quietly, once they were out of earshot. “And if things were always like this, I must have been a naive idiot.”

“What are you talking about, your Highness?” Aikoyo asked.

“Nothing,” Zuko said. He shut his mouth and refused to speak again.

——————————————————————

Zuko woke up the next morning to an eerie silence. The prison was empty, except for him. No guards, no Aang, absolutely no one. Where had everyone gone? What had happened? And how had he slept through it? Zuko sat up in the bed and felt a little electric shock from the metal frame. The very air crackled with just a hint of electricity. It couldn’t be…but there was no other explanation. He waited.

After some time passed, Azula walked into the darkness of the prison, lit up by the blue ball lightning she held in one hand.

“I’m baaaaack, little brother,” Azula sang. “It seems _someone’s_ been busy while I’ve been gone.”

“Hi, Azula,” Zuko said.

“What happened to your cell, Zuzu?” Azula said, stepping closer. “Someone’s been defying Father’s final wishes. Not you, obviously, someone _powerful.”_

Zuko didn’t respond.

“That’s no way to treat your Fire Lord,” Azula said, smiling evilly and crossing her arms.

“Uncle is the Fire Lord,” Zuko said.

“He challenged me in _absentia?_ No one’s done such a thing in _ages_ , it only exists to handle succession if the Fire Lord dies before naming an heir,” Azula said, waving her hand. “But I _never_ refuse a challenge, and now that I’m back, that’s all taken care of.”

“That’s great, Azula,” Zuko said. He was tired, all of a sudden. He was ready for this to be over. He’d miss his naps on Appa, but the bison would be long gone by now, taking Aang and the others with it. But at least once Azula stopped messing with him, she’d leave him alone. Probably in a different, not-destroyed cell, but she wouldn’t stick around and torture him. She had better things to do, she’d made that _very_ clear before.

“Remember the last time I came down here?” Azula said. She idly picked at something on one of her nails.

Zuko didn’t respond.

“It was funny the first time, Zuzu, now it’s just rude,” Azula said, and sparks danced over her fingertips.

“You asked me what loyalty felt like,” Zuko said. She glared and the sparks arced slightly higher. “Fire Lord Azula,” Zuko added, and bowed from where he was sitting.

“I’d ask you to stand up, but I guess someone broke your leg again,” Azula sighed, shaking her head. “But that was an acceptable bow. And that’s _right_ , I _did_ ask you what loyalty was! You’ll be pleased to hear I’ve found out. Come on, ask me what loyalty is about, Zuzu.”

“What is loyalty about?” Zuko asked, through gritted teeth, like it physically hurt him to talk to her.

“It’s about _you,_ Zuzu,” Azula said, spreading her arms wide. “Isn’t that funny? It’s always been about you.”

“…I don’t understand.”

“Loyalty exists for _you._ It didn’t exist until you came into the world, and you dedicated yourself to Father, and then you bled loyalty all over Mai and Ty Lee until they dedicated themselves to you,” Azula said. “Lot of good _that_ did them. But Father was an idiot, because he banished you. If he’d kept you close, you _never_ would have turned treasonous. You would have stayed by his side, burned face and all, and died defending him.”

“Is there a point to this?” Zuko asked.

“There is,” Azula said. “Father was an idiot, but I’m not. I _will_ be keeping you close. No more prison cell, so I guess I _don’t_ have to kill whoever let you out. We’re going to be just like brother and sister. You’re going to be my right hand man as long as I’m Fire Lord.”

“And if I don’t want to?” Zuko braced himself for what was coming, but he didn’t raise his hands. If she shot lightning at him, he wouldn’t redirect it.

“I prepared for you to say that, obviously,” she said. The prison crackled with lightning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My eventual plan is to finish writing this, then convert it into an actual thing, and go back and fix continuity errors. There may have been mistakes and weird tone shifts, but that's just the way the cookie crumbles. Thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

“…What are you doing?” Zuko asked stupidly. He and Azula were surrounded by a ball of her blue lightning, glancing off the stone walls and making the metal bed frame static-y, but carefully avoiding a perfect sphere of empty space around the siblings. It was beautiful. He kind of wanted to touch it. He reached out with one hand—

“Don’t touch it, idiot,” Azula scoffed, dissipating the lightning harmlessly into the air. “Do you have any idea how hard I worked practicing that?”

“Um,” Zuko started, but she cut him off.

“Fine, it only took like, a day,” she said, waving her hand. “Unlike _some_ people, I’m _good_ at firebending.”

“Wow,” Zuko said sarcastically. “Your vacation really improved your mood.”

“Fine. I’m…I’m _sorry,_ okay?” Azula glared.

“Okay, _now_ I believe you practiced that,” Zuko said, raising an eyebrow. “Um, _what_ is happening?”

“I’m _trying_ to apologize for lightning-ing you the first time,” Azula said, sitting down on the hospital bed with him. “Okay? Are you happy now?”

“I’m never happy,” Zuko deadpanned.

“Great,” Azula rolled her eyes. “Your time in prison improved _your_ mood. Where are your crutches? You’re moving.”

Zuko just looked at her.

Azula sighed. “The whole _point_ of the lightning trick was to make it clear that I _can_ kill you, but I’m choosing not to. I’ve _proved_ I’m not going to hurt you. What else can you possibly want?”

Zuko thought for a moment. This was a fair point, but it didn’t quite answer his questions. “What did you do to Uncle?”

“Killed him,” Azula shrugged.

_Azula always lies._ “What did you actually do?” Zuko sighed.

“I could have, you know!” she laughed. “I’d _definitely_ beat him in a fight, old age has made him _soft._ ”

“Still not an answer,” Zuko said.

“He ran off,” Azula glared. “I can only assume he was on that flying pile of flammable white garbage with the Avatar, and his _real_ friends. You really thought Uncle _cared_ about us?”

“Wait, did you kill Appa?”

“No,” Azula said. She looked at him suspiciously. “Why, did you like it or something?”

“I did. Um, I do. What happened, Azula?”

“Do you want to use crutches? Or I can call someone to help you with a wheelchair, like the annoying little guard standing behind that wall, I can _hear you breathing, you know,”_ Azula hissed this last past at the empty staircase. She pushed her hair behind her ears and turned back to Zuko. “What I mean to say is, I’ll show you.”

“…I can use crutches.”

——————————————————————

“Speechless, brother?” Azula smirked.

“…You burned down half the palace,” Zuko said. He stabilized himself against a wall, looking out at the damage.

“Had to be done,” Azula said, waving a hand dismissively. “Besides, it’s _much_ more fun than banishing people. This way, you get to watch them _run.”_

“Is that what Uncle did? He _ran?_ ” Zuko snapped. He couldn’t look away. There was so much debris, pieces of tapestries, and fallen crossbeams, all kinds of rubble and burned ash.

“Don’t sound so surprised, Zuzu,” Azula sniffed. “Once the flames got close enough to the bison, the Avatar went crazy. If I’d known _that_ was his weakness, I would have captured him back when Mai and Ty Lee and I had that tank. But yes, just like every time _you_ encountered them, the Avatar collected his friends and rode off on his flying bison. I guess they took Uncle with them.”

“You saw it?” Zuko felt sick, like he had to sit down. Conveniently, there was a broken piece of what used to be a wall nearby. He sat.

“Of course not,” Azula laughed. “I was burning down the palace, remember? I don’t sit around and watch rabbit-mice panic, I _destroy_ things, Zuzu. I _did_ see them flying away, though. Hard to miss that giant thing’s shadow.” She paused, and looked down at him. “What are you thinking about? You’ve got a weird look on your face.”

_Father made Azula Fire Lord, then she left. Uncle challenged in absentia, so he didn’t get the crown properly, but he still had it—and then Azula challenged Uncle in absentia? Burning down the palace isn’t an Agni Kai…that must mean—_ Zuko looked up at Azula, snapping out of his thoughts. “Um. What?”

“I said, you’ve got a weird look on your face. What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing,” Zuko shrugged. He chuckled. “Nothing.”

“Come on, Zuzu, if you’re gonna be my right hand man, we can’t have any secrets.”

“There is no Fire Lord,” Zuko said. It felt weird, shaping those words together out loud, in that order. He tried it again. “There is no Fire Lord.” It was funny. It was the funniest thing he’d heard in a long time. He laughed. “There’s no Fire Lord, Azula!”

“Very funny,” Azula rolled her eyes. “ _I’m_ the Fire Lord, dum-dum.”

Zuko laughed. He couldn’t help it. It was _funny._

“Keep laughing and I’ll rethink what I said about not killing you,” Azula hissed, her fingertips sparking with blue lightning.

Zuko laughed a few more times, then took deep breaths and managed to get himself under control. “Sorry, Fire Lord Azula,” he said, bowing from where he was sitting on a destroyed palace wall. She’d _destroyed_ the Fire Lord’s palace. He started laughing again.

“Stop it!” Azula said, shooting a bolt into the ground near him. It made a black burn mark on the ground, matching all the other burns she’d already made. Zuko managed to stop laughing again. “And they said _I’m_ the crazy one,” Azula huffed. “Anyway, the Fire Lord’s quarters and my old room are still fine, along with the kitchens, and probably some more stuff I don’t care about. You’ll sleep in my room now, it’s one of the only non-prison bedrooms I didn’t destroy.”

“Got it,” Zuko said. “It’s so…I mean, Aikoyo’s been trying to tell me I’m not a prisoner for a _while_ now…”

“Well, you’re not a prisoner,” Azula said. “I’m not going to stop you if you want to sleep in a _prison,_ idiot.”

“Your room is fine,” Zuko said, smiling. “The sunlight’s nice there. And I’m _not_ a prisoner.”

“I have something else to say about that,” Azula said, shooting a bolt of lightning at a pile of rubble. “Come out of there!” Azula yelled. “I want to talk to you!”

“There’s nobody there—“ Zuko started to say, as Aikoyo stepped out from behind the rubble. “Aikoyo?” He could hardly believe it. She bowed politely but stiffly.

“You! Guard,” Azula said, calling lightning to her palms again. Her face was illuminated in blue. It was a little terrifying, if not for the fact that Zuko now _knew_ she wouldn’t hurt him. “I know you heard that. My brother is no longer a prisoner. If I see you, or _any_ guard around him, I will kill you, understand?”

“I actually like Aikoyo,” Zuko said. “And the other guards. They’re cool. And, y’know. They’re supposed to protect the royal family…”

“Are you saying,” Azula narrowed her eyes, “that you _want_ to be guarded?”

“Um. Yeah.”

“You _know_ you’re not a prisoner, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Fine,” Azula said, smoothing her hair back. “You! Guard! You cared enough to follow us this long, you obviously care about my brother’s safety. Find some others he trusts, and then, if I find that you, or _any_ of them _isn’t_ around him, guarding him and making him feel safe or whatever, I will kill you, understand?”

Aikoyo bowed again.

“Well? Go! You’re gonna guard him all by yourself? What if someone makes an assassination attempt on him? Find some others, and get back here!” Azula yelled, throwing more lightning at the ground.

“Why would someone try to assassinate me?” Zuko asked. “ _You’re_ the Fire Lord now.”

“Because I care about you, obviously,” Azula said. “They’d attack _you_ to get to me. I’ve got a weakness now. I’m almost as pathetic as you, maybe if I wasn’t so good at bending—“ she was interrupted as Zuko hugged her around the waist. “—what are you doing.”

“Hugging you.” Zuko said.

“Well, stop it,” Azula said, crossing her arms.

“Okay, if that’s what you want.” Zuko held up his hands in mock surrender. There was a short pause, as Azula thought.

“Continue,” she said. She sat next to him and hugged him back, awkwardly at first, then leaning into it. “I’m sorry, Zuko,” she said. “I really am. I shouldn’t have burned you, when I did. That’s something Father would do. I don’t want to treat you like that.”

“It’s…it’s okay,” Zuko said, slowly. “Um. Give me a little while to _forgive_ you, but… it’s okay. We’re gonna be okay.” He hugged her as tight as he could. It had been so long since they’d just been _family,_ without any of the pressures of competing with each other or pleasing their father. “We’re brother and sister. We’ve got each others’ backs now.”

“We do,” Azula said, finally pulling away. She smiled. “Loyalty _does_ feel good, Zuzu. I can see why you invented it.”

——————————————————————

“I mean, you should probably be talking to generals or something,” Zuko said awkwardly. “Holding council meetings, and stuff.”

“Why would I want to do _that?”_ Azula laughed. “Sounds _boring._ ”

“Yeah, it’s boring, but… you kind of _have_ to? Azula, _I_ was having meetings from _prison,_ you can’t just—“

“Why not? I’m sure the army and navy and air corps are FULL of people who would just _love_ to make up their own orders for once.”

“They are, that’s the whole point,” Zuko sighed. “Do you have any idea how many generals are _still_ attacking the Earth Kingdom? Putting innocent Fire Nation citizens in danger?”

“Don’t know, don’t care,” Azula said, picking at her nail.

“Really?!?!” Zuko felt like he was going to throw up. _Azula always lies. Azula always lies—_

“Fine,” Azula shrugged. “I had, like, _one_ meeting. But if it means so much to you, _you_ should be running council meetings. I’m the Fire Lord and I’m fine with that—I’m not gonna get insecure and jealous just because you’re volunteering to do the hard parts of the job.”

“I’m not volunteering,” Zuko spluttered. “It’s not that I _want_ to give orders.”

“It’s okay if you want to!” Azula sat up, suddenly excited. “That might actually be really fun for you!”

“It’s _not_ fun,” Zuko snapped. “People’s _lives_ are at stake, people all over the world! It’s a huge responsibility. _You_ should be doing it, Azula, you were always better at politics than me.”

“Really?” Azula raised an eyebrow. “That’s what you think? Zuzu, _I_ was the one who suggested we beat the Earth Kingdom into submission, you want _me_ making decisions?”

“Who else is supposed to do it?” Zuko threw his hands in the air angrily. “Uncle?”

“ _You,_ dum dum,” Azula sighed. “You actually care about this stuff, so you’d probably only last a few months before you got assassinated horribly, but it would be a good few months for the Fire Nation. Guard! What do you think?”

“Um…” It wasn’t Aikoyo. It was some new kid, his helmet not-quite-on properly, but at least he knew how to hold a weapon.

“Your Fire Lord asked you a question,” Azula snapped.

“I agree with you, your Majesty,” the guard said. He bowed, but it didn’t look quite right. What was this, his first day on the job? Azula didn’t even notice, it seemed.

“Good, because I’m always right,” Azula said, turning back to Zuko. “Anyway, I’m going into town, Zuzu. Long Feng hasn’t reported in since I got back, and I’m starting to worry he’s forgotten who’s in charge of him.”

“Um,” Zuko said, sweating. “I wonder what happened to him,” he said. It wasn’t technically a lie, he really didn’t know where Long Feng was now… and Azula didn’t need to know Long Feng had the shit beat out of him by Zuko and Katara.

“Remember to eat today,” Azula said, standing up. “I don’t care if you have to crutch all the way to the kitchen because you’re too stubborn to ask someone to bring you food. You look like you’re starving.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll eat,” Zuko said, annoyed. He smiled, though. “See you later, Fire Lord Azula.” He made a half bow from the bed.

“See ya, Zuzu,” Azula said, and she swept out of the room. She’d be gone for a few hours. Zuko was a little hungry, and he probably _should_ get up and eat, but he’d just take a quick nap first. There was a sunbeam coming in the window, and it rested right over his legs. Azula’s old rooms, where he now lived, was too big for him to touch the walls, but it didn’t feel like he was going to drown in all that empty space, it felt like he had room to spread out. Granted, a lot of the decor in the room was covered in burn marks (Azula had _always_ had a temper), but there were these giant red curtains hanging over the headboard, like a little half-canopy, and it was really cozy. He’d just take a quick nap, and then he’d get up and get some food. He closed his eyes and leaned back on the pillow and said a quiet prayer in gratitude that sleep came so easily these days, and that it was so easy to feel comfortable and well-rested. He’d started to _love_ naps, he’d never had any good sleep while he’d been hunting the Avatar…

Someone was poking him. He opened his good eye. It was the guard who didn’t know how to wear his helmet properly.

“Dude, wake up, don’t go to sleep—“ the guard was _poking_ Zuko. And he’d called him “dude.” He must be really, _really_ new at this. His helmet was just slightly askew.

“Can I?” Zuko said, reaching out with his hand.

“What?”

“Here,” Zuko said, adjusting the helmet so it fit properly. “It won’t protect you when you wear it like that. That’s better. What’s going on?”

“Forget the helmet!” the guard said, and he pulled the helmet fully off of his head, revealing the shaved sides of his head (unthinkable in Fire Nation fashion) and tied ponytail, and blue eyes—

“…Sokka?” Zuko blinked. “You’re a guard?”

“No!” Sokka hissed, glancing nervously at the door. “I’m not a guard. It’s a _disguise._ I’m here to rescue you!”

“From what?” Zuko asked, sitting up. “What are you talking about?”

“From your _sister,_ ” Sokka whispered angrily. “I may not like you, but that doesn’t mean I want to leave you at her _mercy._ She’s the one who did that to your stomach!”

“Oh, um,” Zuko put his hand over the bandages. They weren’t really necessary anymore, they were just protecting the sensitive new skin from sun damage, but he was still wearing them. “That was a while ago,” he said lamely. “I kind of thought you and Aang and everybody left, Azula said she saw Appa flying away after she set the palace on fire.”

“Well, we didn’t leave,” Sokka said. “Appa’s at a safe distance out of Azula’s range, but I’ve got a signal flare—all I have to do is launch it and Aang will pick us up, and then we can _all_ get out of here.”

“Oh. …do you mean _all_ of you…?” Zuko didn’t quite know how to phrase what he was asking, but thankfully, Sokka understood.

“By “we,” I mean me, Katara, Toph, Aang, and you,” Sokka said. “We’re not sure where your uncle is, but they’re looking for him—”

“Great,” Zuko said, flopping back down on the bed.

“Look, once we get you out, we can come back with an army! We can take out the whole palace if we need to, we’ll force Azula off the throne!” Sokka looked around. “Crutches or wheelchair, your call, but we’re _leaving.”_

“No, _we’re_ not going anywhere,” Zuko said angrily. “As soon as I’m gone, you’re just going to destroy the palace? _Kill_ my sister?”

“Well, the goal is just to remove her from power, but—“

“Then I’m not going,” Zuko said, crossing his arms. “She’s _nice_ to me. _You_ yelled at me that I wasn’t trying hard enough!”

“She set you and the palace on _fire,”_ Sokka waved his arms around, exasperated. “I’m sorry for what I said, I would _so_ much rather have you in charge than her. She’s not _like_ you.”

“Yeah, I just burnt down Kyoshi Island, you talk about that _all the time,_ ” Zuko huffed.

“What do _you_ want to do, then?” Sokka glared. “You want to be here when the Earth Kingdom attacks?”

“What?”

“Nobody’s giving orders, so the Fire Nation armies are just going _wild._ They’re destroying towns, they’re stealing food, the generals aren’t listening to any orders coming out of the palace. This is what happens when there’s no official Fire Lord, or whatever! So of _course_ the Earth Kingdom is going to launch an attack. So they tell me,” Sokka finished.

“…that’s right, there’s no real Fire Lord,” Zuko said, quietly. He rubbed his hands on his temples, trying to think. “The solution _can’t_ be killing my sister. If she and Uncle had a real Agni Kai, maybe…?”

“Stop me if you still don’t want to hear this, but _you’ve_ gotta be the Fire Lord,” Sokka said quietly.

“Did my Uncle tell you to say that?” Zuko snapped. “I _know_ how he feels—“

“Aang said it to me,” Sokka said, rubbing the back on his neck. “I’m still not _totally_ convinced, but when he said it, it made sense…”

There was a long silence as Zuko considered this. “Aang said that?” he asked, not sure he believed it.

“Dude thinks you’re the _only_ one who can do it,” Sokka shrugged. “But can we talk about this with him, _outside_ the palace, where I’m not at constant risk of discovery for being a _spy?”_

“No,” Zuko said firmly. “The second I leave the palace, there’s nothing here to stop anyone from burning it down.”

“But Katara said I only get 24 hours to convince you to come with me before they come back to pick me up,” Sokka said.

“That’s perfect!” Zuko said. “When Aang comes back for you, I can talk to him _here._ What time are they coming?”

“Uhh, this evening?” Sokka said. “How am I supposed to know what time it was? I don’t even know what time it is now.”

Zuko held his arms straight out, and turned side to side as much as he could sitting down. “It’s 14:13,” he said.

“I don’t know Fire Nation time, can you translate?”

“To what? Number of boomerangs past the iceberg or something?” Zuko laughed.

“I _just_ said that to Katara! There’s no reason to keep track of hours at the South Pole! And stupid Earth Kingdom time that only goes up to 12!”

“Ohhh. Yeah, in Earth Kingdom time, its 2:13 in the afternoon,” Zuko said.

“How do you even know that? _Why_ do you know that?” Sokka glared suspiciously.

“It’s just a dumb firebending trick, you measure the position of the sun, and…um…yeah,” Zuko finished, blushing. It was another thing royalty wasn’t supposed to be able to do, but he’d spent a lot of time on the Wani, and it had been more convenient to be able to tell time for himself. “Still doesn’t tell us what time your ride is coming back, though.”

“In the evening. We’ll figure it out,” Sokka said, waving his hand. “Can you get to the courtyard where Appa was staying without your sister knowing, or do you need my help?”

“No, I can do it myself,” Zuko said.

“Well, good,” Sokka said, standing up. He walked to the door and peeked out of it. “I’m going to sneak around and see what else I can find out, then.”

“Put your helmet back on,” Zuko sighed. “And tie it _properly_ this time.”

“I know how to do it!” Sokka spluttered, failing to put it on correctly. “I’m _good_ at disguises.”

“Totally,” Zuko sighed, lying back down. “Can I take a nap now, or are you gonna poke me again?”

“…Can you fix it?” Sokka said, holding his head over the bed. Zuko pulled on the straps so that the helmet sat properly.

“Can you see?” Zuko asked.

“Yeah,” Sokka said. “But how is this any different than how I was wearing it before? It feels the same.”

“The way you were wearing it before, if someone firebent at you, it would have gone up the crack at the side and burned a line into your scalp,” Zuko said.

“Woah,” Sokka said, touching the helmet. “Really? How do you know?”

“One of the guards is named Risai. He used to be kindling before someone in his family called in a favor and got him moved here. He’s got a scar there, and he told me a bunch of people in his old unit have matching ones.”

“Kindling? I’ll never understand Fire Nation slang,” Sokka shrugged. “But thanks for fixing it.”

“Um, yeah, no problem,” Zuko said, trying not to focus on how he’d actually _called_ the front-line recruits “kindling” in front of a _water tribe_ member. Thank Agni that Sokka hadn’t understood what it _meant._

“See you tonight,” Sokka said, and he slipped out the door into the hallway. Not long after, Aikoyo stepped into the room.

“I trust the water tribe boy didn’t hurt you?” she asked.

“He’s not doing a great job sneaking around, then?” Zuko asked.

“He fooled your sister,” Aikoyo shrugged.

“…Can you make sure he doesn’t get hurt?” Zuko asked. “I’m good here, I’m just gonna take a nap.”

“Of course, your Highness,” Aikoyo bowed, and she promptly left. Finally alone, Zuko tucked his arm under the pillow so he could get a more comfortable angle for his neck. Just a quick nap in the sun, then some food, then meeting with Sokka and Aang that night. It really _was_ comfortable here. He didn’t notice that he slept unguarded for the first time since he’d told Ozai to fuck off.

——————————————————————

“What do you mean, “he’s left the city?” Azula asked, blue lightning sparking off her clenched fists.

The Dai Li agent in front of her bowed very politely and properly, but he had no satisfying answer to give about why Long Feng had suddenly abandoned the capital city. He didn’t even leave any information about where he could be contacted.

“Traitor,” Azula spat, and she burned the little hut to the ground. Try using it as a front _now,_ traitor. Had she honestly expected the Dai Li to stick around out of loyalty to her? Loyalty was a Zuko thing. She just hadn’t scared them badly enough to _make_ them stick around. Either the unhelpful agent made it out of the conflagration or he didn’t. She didn’t care enough to check.

——————————————————————

“Not there,” Aikoyo said, grabbing Sokka by the back of his collar.

“What?” Sokka spluttered, trying to squirm away. “I’m just a guard, I work for the Fire Lord—“

“I know who you are, Water Tribe,” Aikoyo sighed.

“My name is Lee,” Sokka said, smiling like anyone would believe him.

“This area’s too damaged. If you try walking through it, you’ll fall, and probably hurt yourself.”

“Oh,” Sokka said, looking down at the burnt crossbeams busting through the floor panels. “Um, thanks? But you don’t need to follow me, I’m just a regular guard—“

“Try that line on somebody who isn’t the Guard Captain,” Aikoyo said, releasing him. She walked away, just until she got out of his sight, but kept an eye on him. Sokka avoided the worst of the destroyed floor, then crept along the wall like he was being stealthy. Aikoyo sighed, and followed him.

——————————————————————

“Stop pacing, Katara,” Toph sighed. “Don’t make me throw something at you.”

“I’m worried about Sokka,” Katara said, continuing to pace. “Maybe we should go back sooner, and check on him. He can’t fight Azula on his own, but he’ll _try_ if something goes wrong. Aang, I think we _should_ go back now—“

“We can’t,” Aang said, his head lowered sadly. “If Azula hits you with lightning, Katara, it’s game over.”

“Then I won’t get hit!” Katara rounded on him angrily. “I don’t care _what_ Iroh said about “waterbending conducting lightning,” we can’t leave Sokka in there, and we can’t leave _Zuko._ When we went on our field trip, he was _convinced_ his sister wanted to kill him—“

“For all we know, Zuko is already dead,” Aang said, seriously. That stopped Katara cold. “But if he’s not, Sokka _will_ find him and get him out. We can’t disrupt Sokka’s plan by going back for them sooner, Sokka _told_ us to wait until nightfall so Azula would be at a disadvantage. He’s got the flare if anything goes wrong, and we’ve got our own mission to complete.”

“Found one,” Toph said, making one more pass along the ground with her hand before standing up. “A heartbeat, not far away that way.” She stepped into a lunge and pulled at the ground, and there was a slight shifting in the rubble, but nothing more. “There’s too much wood in the way. Katara?”

Katara closed her eyes and focused. “There’s not a lot of water left, but it might be enough…” she moved her hands from low to the ground into the air, with a slow swirl around her body. The wooden crossbeams raised up from the ground just slightly, revealing a figure in red lying beneath. Aang jumped over and use airbending to carefully lift the man out of the debris, setting him down a safe distance away. Once he was clear, Katara dropped the wood with a grunt. The man coughed black ash.

“Give me a second to recover, I’ll be right there,” Katara said, taking deep breaths.

“Don’t try to talk,” Aang said to the man. “Don’t worry. We’re here to help you.”

Katara came over and pulled her water out of the thermos into a ball. She held it over the man’s nose and mouth, and it glowed brightly. After a few moments, a thin stream of ash came out of his mouth, coiling up in the water ball. She released it a few feet away, and the water disappeared into the dry, cracking ground. The man opened his eyes, and coughed a few more times.

“I’ll go tell the search team we found someone,” Aang said, jumping away.

“We’re going to need to take a break soon. I’m running low on water,” Katara said. She walked over to Appa and sat on one of his legs, taking a drink from the non-battle waterskin.

“We’ll have to move anyway,” Toph said. She came over and took the waterskin from Katara. “If there’s anyone else, they’re out of my range. How many more zones do we have to check?”

“According to Sokka’s map, you should be able to feel the whole area once we do…five more zones,” Katara said, checking the hastily-drawn scroll. “But maybe we should go back and double-check the zones closer to the center—“

“Are you doubting my earthbending senses?” Toph asked.

“No, I just—“

“Just teasing you, Sugar Queen,” Toph said. “I know you’re worried about your brother, but the center zones are the least damaged, and the highest risk of being spotted by Azula or someone else loyal to her in the not-destroyed palace.”

“Yeah,” Katara said. “You’re really sure you couldn’t feel…anyone else when we were there?”

“I’m sure,” Toph said. “That’s why we have to check the rest of the zones before we can go back for Sokka and Zuko, remember?”

“I know,” Katara said.

Aang returned, and a few ex-palace staff members came with him, carrying a stretcher. Aang helped them lay the man they’d just found on the stretcher, and they thanked him, before starting the walk back to the triage center. “Do we have any more drinking water?” Aang asked. “It’s so hot out here.”

“Here,” Toph said, chucking the waterskin at his head. Aang caught it and drank.

“We should go back to the fountain and get some more water before we keep searching. The battle waterskins are almost out too,” Katara said. She climbed onto Appa’s saddle, and Toph followed.

“…Do you think we’ll find Iroh?” Aang asked quietly. “I know we haven’t looked everywhere yet, maybe he wasn’t even in the palace when Azula attacked, but it _was_ more likely he’d be closer to the center, and you can’t detect dead people, Toph—“

“Hey,” Toph said, snapping her fingers. “Stop it. We’ll search the rest of the zones, _then_ we can talk about what happened to Iroh _if_ we don’t find him. He’s probably in the zone that had the Fire Temple, right? Katara, look at the map, that’s where we’ll go next.”

“This is either a drawing of a Fire Temple or…the Agni Kai arena? It’s got symbols on it,” Katara said, turning the map to try and see it at a better angle.

“Appa, yip yip,” Aang said, directing the bison towards the foundation where the little triage center was set up amidst the rubble.

——————————————————————

“You’re all _looking_ at me,” Zuko said, trying to cover up his blush with anger. “Stop it.”

“Sorry, your Highness,” Usoni said, bowing quickly and awkwardly. He pointedly stared at the wall as Zuko continued eating his third plate of fire salmon. There was a long silence in the kitchen, broken only by Zuko’s soft chewing sounds, the sizzle of something cooking on the grill, and the occasional cough of one of the thirty other people in the room, including guards, cooks, palace staff, clerks, and some others Zuko didn’t know who they were.

“Not looking is somehow worse,” Zuko said, putting his head in his hands. “Why are there so many people in here?”

There was another long silence.

“Agni,” Zuko said, rubbing his forehead. “Someone just tell me what’s going on, and please tell me you’re not planning to kill my sister.”

“We’re not planning to kill your sister,” Risai piped up.

“We’re discussing how to coordinate our rescue efforts with the Avatar’s work,” Usoni said.

“Rescue efforts?” Zuko looked up.

“Prince Zuko… Azula destroyed more than half the palace when she returned. Several areas were already weak from the fires after she left the first time, and—“

“You can stop now, I get it,” Zuko said. “Oh, Agni. I’m an idiot.”

“It’s not your fault—“ Risai started, but Zuko cut him off.

“How can I help?” Zuko asked. He swore colorfully, and the guards remembered that the Prince spent several formative years surrounded by sailors. “I can’t _walk,_ my bending is _useless_ because anything flammable must already be burnt—“

“Don’t worry, almost every section of the palace has been searched for survivors—“

“How many people died? No, tell me later, it won’t do any good right now.” Zuko was good and _angry,_ like he hadn’t been in a while. “How many people are injured? Is the palace hospital still up? I could search it for medicine and burn cream. Or better yet, someone should go to the treasury, because you should move the injured into town, and I don’t care if you have to buy an apartment building to do it! They’ll need food, a roof over their heads…I guess you’re already doing that though, I’m sorry,” Zuko finished his tirade awkwardly, withdrawing a little bit and shoveling several more bites of food into his mouth as an excuse to stop talking.

“We weren’t doing that,” Risai said, looking around at the other guards. “Agni, that’s a really good idea.”

“The search-and-rescue was our highest priority, we didn’t have a plan for what we’d do next. Other than the obvious,” Usoni said, and there were several nods from around the room.

“What’s the obvious?” Zuko asked.

“We’ll worry about that later,” Usoni said. “Can you write something official so there’s a record of what we’re taking out of the treasury?”

“Sure,” Zuko shrugged, taking another bite of his salmon. “I don’t see the point, it’s not like anyone’s gonna read it, but if that will help, yes. I’ll do it. Um… can I have some more of this? I mean, now that we’ve got a plan to get the injured housed and fed in town, I figured—but if we need to be giving out palace stores to feed people, I don’t mind—“ Another plate was pushed in front of him.

“Thanks to your idea, we won’t have to,” Usoni said. “You should eat.”

Zuko looked suspicious for a few moments, but hunger won out, and he ate. Everyone else collectively breathed a sigh of relief. Firebenders tended to need more food to keep up their energy, and Zuko’s lack of appetite had been a major worry amongst those loyal to him in the palace, which was most of the staff now. Azula was too unpredictable as a Fire Lord, and Iroh was just as terrifying and formal as Ozai and Azulon had been, but Zuko was genuinely compassionate when he wasn’t drowning in angst. The way he talked sometimes, it was as if he’d worked in customer service—you could just tell he’d had to be respectful to idiot customers somewhere, it was just a vibe he gave off.

Shame he wouldn’t last a day leading a full council. It was just a vibe he gave off—he wasn’t meant for politics the way the others in his family were. But this was good. No one could fault someone for listening to a member of the royal family, especially not if he was just making good suggestions, not really giving orders.

Usoni itched to check Zuko’s bandages, but he didn’t bring it up. He was in charge while Aikoyo was gone, and he wasn’t going to risk sending Zuko into another angst spiral trying to doctor him. At least Zuko was eating. Usoni sent a team of guards to check in with the triage center, and some clerks to open the treasury. Aikoyo would _kill_ him if he left Zuko alone to crutch through the palace debris and singlehandedly drag out victims.

——————————————————————

“Azula, we need to talk,” Zuko said.

“What do you want to talk about, Zuzu?” Azula yawned. It was almost sunset, and she was just about ready to go to bed. She couldn’t believe Zuko was still awake, but all that time in prison must have gotten him used to a weird sleep schedule. What was the _point_ of being awake when the sun wasn’t out if you didn’t have to be?

“Where were you today?” Zuko crossed his arms and scowled. Now _that_ was the easily-annoyed hothead brother she remembered growing up with.

“I had errands,” Azula smiled. “Do you think you’re the only one who’s ever needed something outside the palace walls?”

“You destroyed more than half the palace,” Zuko said. “I doubt there’s any more “wall” to be outside of!”

“So?” Azula said.

“So people got _hurt,”_ Zuko said, scowl getting even deeper. “The guards were telling me, they’re _still_ trying to pull people out of the wreckage—“

“So?” Azula repeated. “You didn’t care about that when I was freeing you from _prison._ ”

“I wasn’t _in_ prison,” Zuko grumbled.

“Well—“

“Don’t say it,” Zuko groaned. “I know I was _physically_ in the prison, but it’s…it’s not like—“

“Oh, you were just sleeping there and spending all your time there because it was such a pleasant environment,” Azula drawled sarcastically. “The guards were there because they made you feel more _comfortable.”_

“Don’t say it like that,” Zuko said tightly. “I didn’t spend all my time there. I…I went to the Sun Warriors Temple with the Avatar. And…Uncle offered if I wanted to sleep somewhere else—“

“Let me guess,” Azula held up a hand. “He said you could sleep in the hospital wing.”

“My leg was broken,” Zuko said, cautiously. His scowl faded a little bit. _Come on, Zuzu, use your brain for thirty seconds, you’ll figure it out,_ Azula thought. “Why did you say it like that?” Zuko asked suspiciously.

“How did your leg get broken, Zuko?” Azula asked, and she _knew_ that using his name would make him really pay attention. “Was it, by any chance, by some coincidence, the first time Uncle visited you in prison?”

“Yes,” Zuko said carefully. Azula expected some kind of long-winded explanation of how it wasn’t Iroh’s fault, and how it was an accident, but it didn’t come. She raised an eyebrow.

“You’ve caught my interest,” she said. “What happened?”

“Um, I don’t remember,” Zuko said.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Azula shrugged, “but seriously? Don’t lie to me.”

“I don’t remember how I broke it,” Zuko said, and _that_ rang true. “I was already unconscious, I guess,” Zuko continued, and she was really going to regret saying he didn’t have to tell her what happened, she could tell already. But she could soldier on bravely— _someone_ had to help Zuko see the truth.

“Then tell me how this sounds,” Azula said, “and you can let me know if I get anything wrong, okay?”

Zuko nodded quickly, and she took that as a cue to keep talking.

“When we were little, Uncle lost his son. Really sad, boo hoo. And I _mean_ that—I _liked_ Lu Ten. But then Grandfather made our dad his new heir, because Father had children to carry on Sozin’s line, and Uncle didn’t. But maybe Uncle didn’t _like_ that, losing his birthright as first born so soon after losing his kid. So maybe Iroh groomed _you_ to take over once Father got himself killed having a war on the whole Earth Kingdom, but then you got yourself arrested for treason and became useless to him.”

“That’s what I thought at first,” Zuko said, “but then what would be the point of coming back now? He _didn’t_ try to trade me to the Avatar or the Earth Kingdom or anything, and he stopped making me have council meetings. So by _your_ logic I’m _still_ useless to him, so there’s no reason to come back unless he actually _does_ care about us—“

“I’ll stop you there, because he may have pretended to care about you, but he’s _never_ done a good job pretending to care about _me,”_ Azula said. “ _Please,_ Zuko, just _think_ for a second! If he’s not keeping you around as a bargaining chip, then why are you here?”

“Because…because…” Zuko floundered.

“You’re so close,” Azula said. “You’ll get it, come on.”

“Because he doesn’t have a choice about that,” Zuko said firmly. “I’m here, I’m alive, I’m a _person,_ I just _have value,_ like Aang said, and _nobody_ goes around killing people once they stop being useful, that was just Father. And…and I wouldn’t _let_ him kill me, if he tried now, I’d fight back.”

“Yes, very nice, cool,” Azula sighed. “Get your confidence back, learn how to be a person again now that you’re not Father’s cave worm.”

“Don’t _say_ it like that!” Zuko yelled. “What do _you_ think is going on?”

“I think Uncle needs to keep his image as a caring parental figure for the Avatar,” Azula said. “I think helping you “recover” is a side effect of his main goal, which is manipulating the _Avatar._ It doesn’t matter if you can remove people’s bending if you won’t use it on the sweet, innocent oldster who helped you learn firebending!” She said that last part with a sickly sweet sarcasm.

“You’re lying,” Zuko said. “You always lie! Uncle _does_ care about me.”

“Look, can we talk about this in the morning?” Azula yawned again. “You know how I hate to recap the obvious when the sun’s not even out.”

“Fine,” Zuko said, and she held back a chuckle, because his stomping angrily out of the room would have been more dramatic if he wasn’t still on crutches. Once he left, she slipped quietly out of her bed and locked the door from the inside with four different latches. Then she searched every corner of the space big enough to conceal an assassin, even up in the rafters (she’d caught Zuko hiding there once and now she _always_ made sure to look up) before going back to bed.

“And they say there’s no rest for the wicked,” she giggled to herself. “Sure there is, if you’re sure you’re alone.” She wondered if Zuko was smart enough to lock _his_ door before going to sleep. Probably not, but they could discuss that tomorrow. _She_ would look after him. Agni knew no one else in their family would. It might have been easier if Long Feng was still around to coordinate the Dai Li for her, but no one could tell her where he’d gone. Oh well. Problems for tomorrow—the sun had already set, and she deserved a rest.

——————————————————————

“Why does nobody listen to me when I say I don’t need help,” Zuko growled.

“Dude, just let me—“ Sokka held out one hand.

“Stop it,” Zuko glared. Sokka stopped talking and just held out his hand. Zuko looked around, and unable to find anything else close enough to pull himself back up, he grudgingly took Sokka’s hand and let himself get pulled upright again.

“The structural integrity of these pathways was compromised—“ Aikoyo started.

“There are people who _actually_ got hurt in this wreckage, they didn’t just trip on nothing,” Zuko glared.

“Tui and La, do you want me to carry you?” Sokka rolled his eyes. “Suffering needlessly like this is just overdramatic.”

“If I may, we’re not far from—“ Aikoyo tried to interject.

“I’m not overdramatic,” Zuko insisted. “You want to carry me? Fine. I have no problem with that.”

“Fine,” Sokka said. “Aikoyo, hold his crutches.” Sokka rolled up the sleeves of his guard uniform. Zuko scowled and dropped his crutches to the ground. After some awkward fumbling, and quite a bit more arguing, they managed to maneuver themselves into a position where Sokka carried Zuko on his back in such a way that he didn’t bump the broken leg. Aikoyo sighed and picked up the crutches.

“As I was saying, we’re not far from the site you indicated the Avatar would meet us,” Aikoyo finished.

“Oh,” Sokka said. Zuko flushed bright red.

——————————————————————

Sokka watched a fluffy cloud drift purposefully closer to the meeting point in the mostly-destroyed courtyard. He looked over at Zuko, who was sitting with his leg up on a rock. He looked even paler in the moonlight.

“You okay, buddy?” Sokka asked. “I didn’t mean to drop you so heavily, I’m actually really strong, I just overexerted myself today lifting a bunch of heavy stuff—“

“I’m fine,” Zuko said. His tone was normal (or at least normal for him) but his shoulders went up and down really quickly. Aikoyo had one hand on his back, trying to stabilize him.

“Um.” Sokka looked up at Appa’s shadow, then back to Zuko. “Oh. Um, this isn’t a _meeting,_ it’s not like… shit. Um, I guess I should apologize.”

“For what?” Zuko looked up.

“Yeah, I guess I just got…y’know. I just figured if _you_ were trying to have a council meeting, then it was fine if _I_ did too, I just know a lot of people probably rotting in Fire Nation prison somewhere, and I didn’t really get that you were, y’know. This doesn’t sound good, does it?” Sokka slapped himself in the face. “Did that sound like an apology?”

“Um,” Zuko looked confused.

Sokka tried again. “Well…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been like that when we were meeting that time. I didn’t realize it was hurting you, and I _really_ should have. I’m sorry.”

“…you stole my food,” Zuko said, after a weird pause.

“Yeah? You don’t just—“ Sokka made eye contact with Aikoyo, who _glared_ at him. That stare was colder than the time he fell in the water on that ice fishing trip. He’d ask questions about Fire Nation food traditions later, this was supposed to be an apology. “I’m sorry for that too,” Sokka finished lamely.

“Okay,” Zuko said, relaxing just slightly.

Sokka _almost_ pushed just slightly harder. _He_ put in all the work making an apology, and Zuko couldn’t even say “I forgive you?” But he remembered something Katara had said a while back, something about how you can’t force people to forgive you, that your only duty is to apologize to the best of your ability, and if you meant it, try to change. So he kept silent and waited for Appa to land.

“This _isn’t_ a meeting, right?” Zuko asked. “This is just…I don’t know what you’d call it. This is just…you’re reporting to Aang, and I’m here to talk to him as a friend, or…” He looked up at Sokka, his facial expression the closest thing to asking for help Sokka had yet seen from him.

“Oh, yeah, sure!” Sokka said. “I’m not even “reporting” to Aang, he’s not the boss of me. Not a meeting, no one’s in charge, just friends talking to each other. Are you good with that?”

“Yeah, I’m good with that,” Zuko said, but he was _clearly_ doing the thing where he took a bunch of deep breaths to calm down.

Appa glided down into the courtyard, slowly circling, and then landing with a soft _flump_ sound. Aang and Toph jumped down from the saddle, and Sokka and Katara ran to hug each other.

“Are you okay? You’ve got Zuko, let’s get out of here—“ Katara started.

“Hey, Katara. I’m okay. Let me stop you right there—hothead says he’s not going anywhere,” Sokka said, holding up his hands.

“What?” Katara asked. She turned to Zuko. “Zuko, are _you_ okay? Your sister didn’t hurt you, did she?”

“He’s fine,” Sokka said, pulling her away. “First, let’s just sit down and talk about what we did today.” He then turned and called back towards Zuko. “No one is forcing you to participate! But we’re gonna sit right here where you can hear us, and you can talk if you want, but you don’t have to!”

“Hi, Zuko!” Aang waved. “We’re still friends! I didn’t mean to abandon you, I’m sorry!”

Zuko waved awkwardly.

The Gaang sat in a little circle, and Aang made a small campfire for them. Zuko sat off to the side with Aikoyo. Almost everyone took a turn talking—even Aikoyo spoke up to clarify some of what Sokka had to say, much to Sokka’s annoyance that he’d failed to notice he was being watched all day.

“…but anyway, it seems like most of the palace is willing to support us, so long as we’re not hurting Zuko, killing Azula, or removing anyone’s bending,” Sokka ticked off these points on his fingers. “Hey, we did all those briefings with Iroh for _nothing,_ he never mentioned that it was a _crazy_ blow to Fire Nation morale when Aang removed Ozai’s bending. I _listened_ to his briefings, and he never said any of the stuff the clerks told me. Aang, you’re a terrifying monster-slash-spiritual threat,” Sokka finished.

“What?” Aang was confused. “I didn’t kill Ozai. The airbenders are nonviolent—“

“Yeah, no one knew energy-bending or whatever was a thing, and according to what some people told me, they’d _rather_ be dead than turned non-bender, which was super great for _my_ self confidence, but anyway. That’s what’s up,” Sokka did finger guns at Aang, who looked absolutely devastated.

“I didn’t know…” Aang said. Everyone looked at Zuko, who had his arms crossed and was staring at the ground angrily, but nobody asked him for more information about this, and he didn’t offer any.

They continued the discussion. Between their efforts and those of the palace guards/staff, all survivors had been dug out of the wreckage and rescued. The next step, it seemed, would have to be preventing Azula from hurting anyone else.

“…Are you going to take her bending?” Zuko asked, speaking up for the first time. Everyone looked at him. “Sokka was right about that…stuff. She’d rather be dead than a nonbender.”

“I don’t think I can, now that you said that,” Aang said, putting his head in his hands. “I didn’t realize…what are we going to do?”

“What did my uncle suggest?” Zuko asked, much too calmly. “He’s usually right. Just tell me what it is so I can get used to his idea now, please.”

Aikoyo put her hand on his shoulder. Sokka bit his lip and looked at Katara, who shook her head “no.”

“I guess I can see why you didn’t bring him,” Zuko said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I did kinda freak out the last few times I saw him. He probably told you to leave him behind, he really…he gets that kind of stuff about me, he always has…I need to talk to him.”

“I tried to tell him,” Sokka bit his lip.

“Tell me what?” Zuko asked.

“Zuko, I’m so sorry, but Iroh’s been missing since Azula came back,” Katara said. “We searched the entire area that used to be the palace, but we didn’t find him.”

“What? Maybe you missed him, or maybe he was already underground when something collapsed—“

“There aren’t any more survivors underground,” Toph said.

“How do you know?” Zuko looked at her. “Maybe he’s—“

“I sense stuff using my earthbending, feeling vibrations through the ground. No one’s left underground who’s still breathing or has a heartbeat. I’m sorry.” Toph hung her head.

“I—what? But he—“ Zuko was breathing heavily now, and he had one hand over his chest, pulling on the fabric of his robes.

“It’s possible he wasn’t even here when Azula came,” Katara said. “The city is totally unaffected—when the lightning got to the edges of the palace, it just stopped. If he left—“

“Why would he have _left?”_ Zuko glared at her angrily.

“I don’t know,” she said, and her calm tones washed over the little group. “We haven’t found him yet. It’s possible he’s still alive, and it’s possible he’s dead. We just don’t know.”

“We…you have to find him,” Zuko said, running his fingers through his hair. “If he’s still alive…”

“We need to talk about priorities, then,” Katara said. She moved closer to him and sat down, and gestured for the group to follow. The little circle re-formed, including Zuko this time. “This is your territory, Zuko. You know Azula better than any of us. Is she an immediate threat to you or anyone else? What’s more important: do we need to find Iroh, or do we need to stop her?”

“I…” Zuko floundered, looking around the circle. “Uncle would know what to do—“

“He’s not here,” Katara said. “If we don’t stop Azula as soon as possible, will she keep hurting people?”

“…She doesn’t mean to,” Zuko said. “This was an accident, kind of. She’s got a temper. I think she burnt down that hut where we found Long Feng, Katara. She just…she doesn’t think. She’s not _planning_ anything, it’s just…stuff happens,” Zuko said. He looked at the ground so he wouldn’t have to make eye contact with anyone. “The longer she’s Fire Lord, the more likely someone’s going to get hurt.”

“Okay,” Sokka said, rubbing his chin. “I think Zuko’s right that letting the Earth Kingdom army attack is a _bad_ way to go about this. What if we divide into two teams, and one team looks for Iroh, and the other takes care of Azula?”

“What does “taking care of Azula” mean?” Aang asked.

“We can’t do _anything_ about Azula until Iroh is back,” Zuko insisted. “It would be _worse_ if there was absolutely _no one_ in charge. It’s been so long since my…since Ozai declared himself Phoenix King, there needs to be a _real_ Fire Lord coronation, Iroh should be having council meetings and stopping the skirmishes and—“

“Iroh said he _couldn’t_ be in charge,” Toph said. “If you actually want someone who’s gonna make there be _less_ violence, having the Dragon of the West as the Fire Lord isn’t going to encourage the Earth Kingdom _not_ to attack you.”

“Oh,” Zuko said, drooping visibly. “I guess you’re right. Azulon didn’t have any other kids, so that’s the rest of _his_ line. Maybe Mai’s family is in line for the Fire Thorne? I could ask her parents if they’d step in—“

“Zuko,” Aang said. “Pretend I’m not the Avatar. Pretend I’m just your friend, okay? I’m gonna say this as a friend, _not_ as the Avatar.”

“Um,” Zuko blinked.

“I really think _you’d_ be a good Fire Lord. I think maybe you’re _supposed_ to be Fire Lord. …I’ve got more to say, but I don’t want to freak you out.” Aang fiddled with his marbles.

Zuko closed his eyes and took _several_ deep breaths. Sokka jumped when a few of them were actually on _fire._ After a long time, Zuko opened his eyes and looked up.

“I’m not saying I believe you, but you can keep talking,” Zuko said. His hands were clenched into fists, but his breathing was normal again.

“You know what it’s like to be hurt by Ozai,” Aang said. “The whole _world_ is hurting because of him right now. Maybe you’re the best person to start making things right. _You_ were the one who figured out where we’d move Azula’s victims, we didn’t have _any_ plan beyond the triage center—“

“I would have come up with something!” Sokka interrupted.

“But Zuko _did_ come up with something,” Aang said. “You’ve got more than good ideas, you’ve got…I don’t know what I’d call it, but it would make you a good Fire Lord.”

“What are you saying?” Zuko asked. “…Do I challenge Azula to an Agni Kai? She’d win, she’s better at firebending than me.”

“Hear me out on this, but I think an Agni Kai is a bad idea,” Sokka shrugged. “If it’s anything like what your uncle told us about, we’d pretty much be _asking_ Azula to set you on fire.”

“…And that would be _bad,”_ Zuko said, and it came out half-question.

“Whatever plan we come up with, it better _not_ involve Zuko getting hurt,” Katara said.

“Seconded,” Toph raised her hand. “Even if the goal _wasn’t_ make him Fire Lord, Sparky’s been hurt enough.”

“Yeah, I know, _I’m_ the one who said an Agni Kai was a _bad_ idea,” Sokka rolled his eyes.

“What if that’s the only way?” Zuko said, looking up. He made eye contact with each of them, one at a time. “If the only way to make _me_ the Fire Lord is to send me into an Agni Kai with my sister and get killed…” he trailed off.

“Then we won’t send you into it,” Aang said. “We’d figure something else out.”

“You really believe that I’m the best choice for Fire Lord,” Zuko said, “but you _wouldn’t_ let me get hurt to achieve that?”

“Wow,” Sokka whispered. “I knew the Fire Nation doesn’t really do “families” like the Water Tribe, but I’m suddenly even _more_ grateful for our dad being so good at being a dad, Katara.” Katara elbowed him in the side.

“I’m your friend. I’m _not_ going to let you get hurt, if I can stop it,” Aang said firmly.

“Me too,” Katara said. “That’s what friends are for. You look out for each other.”

“I’m gonna be real, I don’t know if we’re “friends” yet,” Sokka shrugged, “because we’ve had like, two conversations that actually went well, ow, Katara, _stop_ elbowing me, but what I’m trying to say is, yeah, the plan is for you to _not_ get hurt, at least as far as I’m concerned.”

“I’d _like_ to be friends with you,” Toph shrugged. “When do I get to have _my_ life-changing field trip?”

“…I don’t deserve that,” Zuko said, quietly. “I used to think I’d run away and _join_ you guys, actually do something to make up for everything I did, but I haven’t _done_ anything yet. I could sit in prison the rest of my life and never…what I mean is, I’m gonna prove myself, I promise. I’llbe the Fire Lord, I’ll make things right—“

“Can I hug you?” Aang said.

“…What?” Zuko asked. “I didn’t finish, I—“

“Can I hug you?” Aang asked again.

“Um, yeah, but why?” Zuko looked confused.

Aang leapt over the campfire and hugged him.

“What is this for?” Zuko asked.

“Easier than telling you,” Aang said. “Friendship isn’t about _deserving_ stuff, it’s about…y’know. Friendship.”

Zuko closed his eyes, and hugged back. The next thing he knew, the rest of them were hugging him too, just one giant group hug. For a second, he imagined what it would have been like if he _did_ make it out of the palace on the Day of Black Sun, if he _had_ followed through on his plan to be the one to teach Aang firebending. Maybe they’d have hugs like this all the time. It felt _warm,_ but not the way the sun feels warm. It was closer to the way his inner fire felt, but all over, not just in his lungs. Zuko couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so _safe,_ especially not around other people _._ He really hoped he wasn’t going to start crying, that would be so embarrassing…

Everyone went back to their spots around the campfire, and Zuko readjusted his cast into a more comfortable position.

“Okay, I’m listening,” Zuko said. “What’s the plan? I’m in.”

——————————————————————

Azula was suspicious. She hadn’t gotten where she was today by ignoring her suspicions (more than _half_ of being Ozai’s favorite was about knowing when something was about to happen and getting out of the way), so she investigated. Zuko had been angry last night, and then this morning, he was nowhere to be found. Where could a guy on crutches have possibly gone? The guards were gone too, but that was acceptable—she didn’t need protection, and she’d ordered them to follow and protect Zuko. They must be with Zuko, doing their jobs. Only, there wasn’t anyone in the kitchen, either. She helped herself to all the food she could find, but she was miffed no one was there to offer it to her.

It couldn’t be Zuko’s fault. He was all _about_ loyalty. She came back to the palace specifically because she realized he was the only person left who would never betray her. But where had he gone?

Usually, she didn’t concern herself with such things (being Fire Lord was such an important task, after all), but she went down to the clerk’s offices, just to say hello. She was unsurprised to find that the clerks had vanished, too. Where had everybody gone?

It didn’t really matter, because she didn’t _need_ anyone else. Just her and Zuko, against the world. She didn’t even _need_ him, if it came down to it, he was just nice to keep around. She didn’t really need him, she reminded herself, as she opened the door to his bedroom for the third time, just to make sure he wasn’t sleeping late or something.

At midday, just when the sun was highest, she felt a prickling sensation on her skin. She went outside. There was a giant flare rising up from somewhere in the rubble of the parts of the palace she’d destroyed. Zuko must have slipped away from his guards, wandered out there, and gotten stuck, and now he was calling for help. She’d _kill_ his guards for abandoning him, how do you _lose_ someone with a broken leg? She walked briskly over the wreckage, never missing a step or falling.

——————————————————————

“So, Zuzu. I see you’ve found someone _else_ to kidnap you,” Azula laughed. She stood in front of their little semi circle, directly in front of Zuko.

“Azula, I’m asking you to step down as Fire Lord,” Zuko said. His hands were up and he held out two fingers, as if he was preparing to redirect lightning. Without both legs for a solid stance, she doubted he’d be able to pull it off.

“Now why would I do that?” Azula smiled.

“You burned down half the palace,” Zuko glared.

“That wasn’t my _intention,”_ she shrugged.

“It still happened,” Zuko said. “It almost would have been _better_ if you planned it—you’re out of control, you need _help,_ not to be in charge of a country.”

“And who’s going to take over for me? _You?”_

“…at least until we find Uncle, yes,” Zuko said. “You didn’t even know he was missing.”

“It really is sweet that you still think he cares about you,” Azula shook her head. “You think your new friends care about you, too? Do you think the Avatar really cares about you? I doubt it.”

“Azula, you always _lie._ You can either step down willingly, or we’ll make you,” Zuko said, raising his arms just a little higher.

“What happens to _you_ after this, Zuzu? They let you be the Fire Lord? You spent years hunting them all over the world, and granted, you did a bad job, but you think they _forgave_ you? Or was that all a ploy to get you to help take me down?” Azula held one hand over her heart. “I thought you said we had each others’ backs. You’re my _brother,_ Zuzu.” Now for the final piece. She congratulated herself—she really _was_ good at this kind of stuff. It was what made her a good Fire Lord. “You know, I’ll be generous—I understand you have a broken leg, you can’t exactly climb up here and join me, but just sit there and do nothing while I take care of the Avatar, and all is forgiven.”

“No,” Zuko said, much to her surprise. “If you want to kill them, you have to go through me first.”

“I really would have thought you would have challenged me to an Agni Kai,” Azula laughed. “Whatever this excuse for a coup is, it’s not very honorable of you.”

Zuko didn’t even respond to that, he just narrowed his eyes and looked at her. She felt sparks beginning to gather on her fingertips.

“Really? Nothing else to say?” Azula glared. “That’s it? You’re just…you’re going to betray me too, like everyone else. I came back for _you._ What ever happened to your _loyalty?_ ”

“I am loyal to what I believe is right,” Zuko said. “I’m not going to let you hurt anyone else.”

“Wonderful,” Azula grimaced, blue lightning starting to arc between her hands. She was getting angry, but she had to stay in control or she’d never make it out of this. “You sound just like Mai and Ty Lee. Maybe you should _join_ them in prison until you can remember who your Fire Lord is.”

“What?” Zuko hesitated for just a moment, hands dropping just slightly, and _that_ was her moment. She scanned quickly—earthbender, nonbender, brother, avatar, waterbender… the waterbender would have the hardest time recovering from a lightning strike, but she didn’t like how that nonbender was holding that boomerang. She raised her pointer finger and shot a blue streak at him.

Zuko moved faster than she’d thought, sliding in front of the water tribe boy and catching her lightning in one hand. Predictably, his broken leg crumbled underneath him, breaking his root, and his whole body convulsed with energy, only a small amount of lightning following the path of his redirection safely out of him. What she couldn’t have predicted was how she would be affected by that. For a moment, she was back in that dark prison under the palace, looking down at him. He hadn’t even redirected her attack that time, he’d just sat there and she’d flooded him with lightning, and she didn’t even feel bad. No wonder he’d given away his loyalty.

She was off balance for no more than a few milliseconds, but when she took a step back to start another attack, she felt her back foot sinking into the ground. The earthbender. She pointed at the earthbender, who raised a column of stone to block the lightning. It glanced harmlessly away, and she still had one foot trapped in the ground.

She aimed an attack at the Avatar, who redirected it. Today was a great day for redirecting lightning, she mused angrily, and she couldn’t get as much leverage as she wanted, but she swirled her hands over her head and summoned a blue flame, which she threw in a circle around her. The waterbender split the flame with a wave, and Azula laughed. She could take these kids, even when they worked together, they were hardly a threat. She readjusted her weight onto the trapped foot, and kicked another bolt of flame at the boomerang kid. He ducked—no, he was leaning over her brother, he was protecting Zuko, did he really think she was going to kill her own brother? Don’t get distracted, she reminded herself.

Another rock reached up from the ground and grabbed her left hand, pulling it to the ground. She screamed angrily and used her free hand to fire a cone of blue energy at the earthbender, who dodged out of the way like she was _predicting_ Azula’s moves. Just as suddenly, the water whip wrapped around her right hand, and turned to ice. The waterbender yanked her off balance and her other foot slipped underground too. The boomerang flew at her face, but she screamed flame to deflect it and it fell to the ground. She took one more glance at her brother, still lying on the ground—had she killed him? She didn’t mean to—and when she looked back up she found that she was completely immobilized in earth, cuffing her wrists and ankles.

She struggled against the binds, but they were solid rock. She blew fire at her attackers, but they moved out of reach, except her brother, who still wasn’t moving. She screamed again, how _dare_ they keep her from him, she would kill _all of them,_ and then she’d find the Avatar again when he was reborn in every nation and kill him over and over again. They gathered over her brother, and the waterbender was doing something to him with a glowing ball of water, they were going to kill him, and she screamed at them and set herself on fire, _look at me, leave Zuko alone,_ but they paid no attention. She felt her inner fire flicker just slightly. She’d expended so much energy self-immolating without burning herself, and she hadn’t had much to eat that morning without the kitchen staff working. With the last bit of her energy, she screamed fire at the Avatar one last time, and then she was exhausted. She shouldn’t have lost control, she should have saved her energy so she could have fought longer. Now that she’d lost, she couldn’t expect they’d let her live. She struggled weakly, in one more feeble attempt to break free. “Sorry, Zuzu,” she whispered, and she slipped into unconsciousness.

——————————————————————

Zuko woke up to the familiar sensation of energy crackling through him, making him twitch involuntarily. He grunted in pain as he felt his leg muscles move inside the cast, the whole _point_ of the cast was that it was supposed to prevent him from moving while the break healed—but he wasn’t sure where he was, which suddenly became a much bigger concern. It wasn’t the palace hospital, it wasn’t his bedroom, it wasn’t the prison (and he’d half expected to wake up in that darkness again, he’d committed treason _again_ and he felt horrible). It was a room with a simple sleeping mat and a pastel painting of bamboo on the wall, and not much else. Oh Agni. Was this Earth Kingdom prison? He should have known better than to trust the Avatar and his friends so easily, as soon as they’d used him to take down Azula, they’d sent him to their own prison. But his hands were free and seemingly not damaged, so either the stories about how the Earth Kingdom treated firebenders weren’t true, or he wasn’t a prisoner. So what _was_ happening?

He gasped as another electric impulse made him twitch again. The door to the little room opened and he flinched involuntarily, not sure who was coming in, but when he saw it was just Aang and Katara, he relaxed. He only realized he had been shaking when it stopped, and he collapsed back onto the sleeping mat. “What happened?” Zuko asked. “Did we win?”

“We did it,” Aang said, sitting on the floor. “And nobody got hurt—um, except you. How are you feeling?”

“I feel like I— _ow_ ,” whatever metaphor Zuko was going to say was cut off as he twitched again. It hurt like hell. “…What are you doing?”

Katara had popped the cap on her waterskin and was molding the water into a ball in the air. It glowed eerily. Zuko had never seen anything like it before.

“The magic water thing I told you about in Ba Sing Se,” Katara said, and she moved the water ball onto his chest. It felt bubbly and tingly. It was really nice.

“That feels like forever ago,” Zuko said, closing his eyes. “Where are we? What happened to Azula?”

“You’re in the city, in one of the buildings you paid for us to use to house people from the triage center,” Aang said. “There were too many people who needed help and the hospital was overwhelmed, so we moved here, and volunteers have been treating people. We’d have used the palace hospital, but it was, um, also destroyed. As you know.”

“I hate it there anyway,” Zuko winced as another electric spark danced on his ribcage. “And I hate doctors.”

“Don’t worry, no one you don’t know has been in here,” Katara said. She did something with her hand and the spark drew itself up into the water ball, where Aang grabbed it and threw it on the stone floor. “Aikoyo is guarding the door, and Aang and I have been removing the residual energy as quickly as we can. We can’t do too much at once, or risk damaging your chi paths—“

“Thank you,” Zuko said, “but where is Azula?”

“Believe it or not, she’s in therapy,” Katara said.

“Oh Agni,” Zuko said, face turning pale. “What is _that?”_ He looked up at Aang, panic in his eyes. “You know she needs help, she doesn’t deserve to be tortured, she’s not in her right mind! You have to—“

“Shhh,” Katara said, moving the water ball over his forehead.

“She’s not being tortured,” Aang said, confused. “She’s in therapy. Which is, um, she’s talking to someone, and they’re gonna try to help her feel better.”

“Please, I’m too tired for politics-bending,” Zuko squeezed his eyes shut as the water ball massaged his temples. “When you say “talking to someone,” what is that? She’s being interrogated?”

“No, just talking about life and your problems and stuff,” Aang shrugged. “She’s totally fine, I promise. Aikoyo recommended a different palace near the ocean where there are fewer civilians in case there’s a problem, and Azula is with an Earth Kingdom team that came highly recommended. No one is getting tortured. You can visit her! _You_ should probably talk to a therapist at some point too—“

“Zuko, are you feeling okay?” Katara lifted the water ball for a second and put her hand on Zuko’s forehead.

“A little cold. Why?” Zuko coughed.

“I think you’re starting to run a fever,” Katara said, concerned. “But I don’t know how you could have gotten sick.”

“It’s probably the same thing I had a while back,” Zuko shrugged. “It’s nothing, it’ll pass really soon. _Ouch—_ “ and he grimaced as another spark made him twitch. “I’m _really_ tired. Can you ask Aikoyo to come in before I go back to sleep?”

“Sure,” Aang said, but before he could even get up, the door opened and Aikoyo entered.

“Aang, Katara. Sokka and Toph have returned from—oh, Prince Zuko, you’re awake,” Aikoyo said, bowing.

“Can I talk to you alone?” Zuko asked.

Aikoyo looked at Katara. “Are you done treating him for now?”

“Yes,” Katara nodded. “It’ll be another few hours before we can remove more of the energy safely.”

“Sokka’s back!” Aang jumped up. “Bye, Zuko! See you later!” He raced out of the room, and Katara coiled her water back into the waterskin and followed him.

“How are you feeling?” Aikoyo asked.

“I’m fine,” Zuko lied. Obviously he wasn’t fine. “Actually, I’m a little cold—could I get another blanket? But that’s not important,” he shook his head. “What they said about Azula, is it true? It’s not that I don’t trust them, it’s just…Aang thought removing my father’s bending was _mercy,_ I just want to know Azula’s going to be okay.”

“She’s at the seaside palace, and she’s with an Earth Kingdom therapist,” Aikoyo said. “I don’t believe she’s being tortured, but you’ve been unconscious less than a day, so I can’t actually confirm that, as there hasn’t been time for one of my guards to visit and report back.”

“Okay,” Zuko said, and relaxed just slightly. “I want to visit her.”

“It looks like you’re sick,” Aikoyo said. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“I’m just going to take a quick nap,” Zuko yawned, “and then I’ll take a war balloon to see her, and then I’ll sleep for a _really_ long time. Are there any extra blankets? I don’t want one if anyone else is going without, though.”

“There are extra blankets, we opened the treasury and have been distributing all the funds necessary to provide for everyone displaced by Azula,” Aikoyo said. “I’ll bring you one.”

“Stay here,” Zuko said. “Please. I’m just going to take a quick nap…” he yawned again. “…and then we’ll go see Azula.”

“Of course,” Aikoyo said, and she watched Zuko curl up into a little ball under the blanket. She tucked it around him a little bit more. “I’ll be here when you wake up.” The only response she received was a soft snoring sound from under the fabric. She stood carefully, so as not to wake him, and went to the door. “Bring up a few extra blankets, Usoni,” she said.

“Right away,” Usoni said stiffly. His whole body was tense and at attention.

“He’s doing better,” Aikoyo said. “It’s not like last time. There’s not going to be a scar.”

“Okay,” Usoni let out a breath in a _whoosh._ “But maybe I should just check on him and make sure he doesn’t need anything, I’ve got fresh bandages—“

“He needs blankets,” Aikoyo snapped her finger in his face. “And you’ve checked on him five times in the last half hour. You’re doing a great job, and he’s recovering nicely, thanks to the help of _many_ people. Blankets, Usoni.”

“Yes, sir,” Usoni bowed, and ran off down the hall. Aikoyo went back into the room and sat next to Zuko. He shivered in his sleep.

——————————————————————

“I commend your initiative, Foman,” Azula nodded, sipping her tea. “I was starting to lose faith in the Dai Li. It seems Long Feng kept far too many agents around who didn’t care to discover where he’d gone.”

“His disrespect to you is his own dishonor,” Foman bowed. “The Dai Li remain loyal to you, under my command. If you wish it, Long Feng will be found.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Azula waved her hand. “Who cares where he went? He’s gone, he’s out of my mind. Arrange it so that when my brother visits his “dear sister in therapy,” he comes alone. I want to talk to him _without_ his little entourage.”

“Of course,” Foman said. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“It occurs to me,” Azula said, “that my brother said something about my uncle going missing in the unfortunate, unavoidable destruction to the palace. Find him, let me know where he is.”

“It will be done,” Foman bowed once more before leaving the room. The heavy door closed behind him. He walked past the agents guarding her door and down a long hallway. He emerged from the seaside palace and walked down a little cobblestone path into town. He passed little shops and restaurants, nodding to the Dai Li he recognized and ignoring the civilians. He finally stopped in front of a little tea shop, simple titled “Jasmine.”

He entered. The old man who ran the shop was talking to some of his customers. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong—I’m making it the same way I always have, I don’t know _why_ it would taste different—“ he looked up and saw Foman sitting down. “Foman, my old friend!” He bowed politely to the customers. “Excuse me, I’ll be right back.”

“Mushi,” Foman smiled. “How’s business?”

“Terrible,” the man sighed. “Everyone’s complaining the tea tastes different. I can’t understand it. I’m doing everything exactly the same, the only thing different from my shop in Ba Sing Se is that my nephew Lee isn’t here.”

“I’m sure he’ll be here soon,” Foman smiled. “I’ll ask some people I know to look for him.”

“Thank you,” the man smiled sadly. “I do worry about him, you know.”

“I know,” Foman said, standing up. “I’ll make sure he gets here, but for now, I’ll leave you to your customers. I have a few things to take care of, but I’ll be back to visit you again soon.”

“It’s so nice to see you, Foman,” the man shook his head sadly. “Things make _sense_ when you’re around. I wish you’d stay.”

“Other matters draw my attention, Mushi,” Foman said. “We’ll talk soon.” He left the shop, and just managed to catch a little bit more of the man’s heated conversation with angry customers. He turned to a homeless man sitting near the front step. “You. Perhaps “Mushi’s” customers should express their anger somewhere else, somewhere their comments will be appreciated, and less likely to distress my “dear” friend.” The Dai Li agent near the front step sat up straight, and bowed respectfully to Foman. Foman smiled. Just a few more errands to run. It was his personal touch that made his leadership style so different from Long Feng’s. It was his personal touch that ensured he wouldn’t _disappear_ the same way Long Feng had gone. Perhaps he _should_ look more carefully into that disappearance. Knowledge is power, after all.

——————————————————————

_Zuko was in a dark room. He couldn’t see anything, but he could feel the walls closing in around him when he stretched out his hands. “Hello? Is anyone there?” He called out._

_His father’s laughter echoed around him. “Traitor,” Ozai laughed. “You shouldn’t have betrayed me, Zuko. You’ll spend the rest of your life down here.”_

_The walls pressed in closer. Zuko could touch them easily, now. “Father? Where are you?”_

_“Dead,” Ozai continued, and his voice turned ghostly and horrifying, the pitch of his words deepening into a low roar that wouldn’t go away even when Zuko plugged his ears. “It’s your fault, if you’d been more loyal, if you’d been BETTER, it wouldn’t have happened…”_

_“Zuko wouldn’t know loyalty if you beat him over the head with it,” Azula cackled, and the walls were touching Zuko’s elbows now. He had to crouch in order to fit in the space. “He killed his own sister, too.”_

_“You’re not dead,” Zuko said, panicked. “Azula, let me out, I can barely move—“_

_“I am,” Iroh said, and his voice grated out into the darkness, harsh and raspy like Zuko had never heard before. “I’m still under the palace rubble, you may have stopped the Earth Kingdom from crushing my hands but you didn’t stop Azula from crushing me to death—“_

_“Please, stop,” Zuko said. “I didn’t mean it, I didn’t want you to die—“_

_“Fair is fair,” Azula laughed. “Eye for an eye. How does it feel to suffer the same way you’ve condemned us?”_

_“Stop,” Zuko cried, and the walls touched his shoulders, squeezing tightly, and there were hands on his throat—_

——————————————————————

“ _Stop,”_ Zuko yelled, sitting bolt upright. He’d tangled one of his blankets around his throat. It. was all sweaty and gross. He pulled at it frantically, trying to tear it off, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Let me help,” Aikoyo said, and her sure hand took the edge of the blanket and unwound it. Zuko held his throat in both hands and coughed. “Deep breaths, you’re all right…”

“Water,” Zuko gasped. He tried to focus on his breathing. He was okay. He closed his eyes and stretched his hands out. Thankfully, he couldn’t feel anything, no walls, no nothing.

“Here,” Aang said, handing him a waterskin. Zuko drank, and he could feel the realization that Aang had apparently seen at least the tail end of the nightmare creeping on the edges of his consciousness, but he was too thirsty to care just yet. He coughed again as some of the water went down the wrong pipe. He was shaking. He was still cold, but the blanket was too constricting. Someone said something, and he missed it.

“I’m sorry,” Zuko coughed, “I didn’t mean to bother anyone. It was just a nightmare, you can all go away—“ He coughed too hard to keep talking. He drank more water. Someone said something again. “I’m sorry, what was that?” Zuko asked.

“I said mmmmrpgh srrrngh mm ngnghh,” Aang said.

Zuko stuck his finger in his good ear, trying to massage it back into working. “One more time, sorry.”

“I said I brought some candies if you want to try one, it might help the cough,” Aang said.

“How did you know? I only just started coughing,” Zuko rasped. His throat was on fire, and not in a good way.

“You’ve been coughing in your sleep for a few hours,” Aikoyo said. She touched his forehead with the back of her hand. “You still have a fever.”

Zuko coughed again. It hurt. “I’ll take a candy, please.”

Aang passed over a small golden candy, wrapped in paper. It was hard, and tasted not at all like caramel as he’d expected. It was more like a cherry flavor, but if cherry tasted like mint. It helped a little bit, and he rolled it around in his mouth.

“Are you hungry? You could try to eat something if you want, there’s some soup ready,” Aikoyo said.

“Just gonna lie here for a second,” Zuko said, flipping over so he was laying on his stomach. “No more robes.” He flailed around with his arms, trying to remove his shirt. “Too hot.”

Aang said something else Zuko couldn’t hear, and then left. Zuko made it out of his shirt and then promptly fell back asleep. The candy fell out of his mouth and landed on the ground, covered in drool.

“Um,” Katara blushed, covering her eyes. “I’m gonna take a break from trying to heal him.”

“Thank you for trying,” Aikoyo said. “Could you bring up some soup for me? The prince may not be hungry, but I am.”

“Yeah,” Katara said, and still not looking at Zuko, she left the room.

——————————————————————

The next few days passed relatively uneventfully. After a few more nightmares loud enough to wake the whole building, Zuko’s fever broke, and he started eating again. According to a schedule Sokka laid out, every day two members of the Gaang went out together to search for Iroh. By the time Zuko was feeling better, it had become clear that if Iroh was alive, he wasn’t in the city.

The Gaang started to get more comfortable with Zuko, and he got a little more comfortable with them. They ate at least one meal a day together, and when Sokka and Zuko finally got around to explaining to each other that the Water Tribe shared communal plates of food and the Fire Nation did not, there was a lot of embarrassed apologizing and awkwardness until Katara slapped them both and told them to stop. Several more misunderstandings arose and were explained, and Sokka dubbed Zuko the team’s official Fire Nation cultural ambassador. Zuko pointed out that this was kind of a step down from unofficial Fire Lord, and Sokka explained that any official title obviously had more prestige than an unofficial title, and Toph broke up _that_ fight.

Fortunately, Zuko quickly caught on to the difference between playful teasing and sparring as opposed to serious insults and death matches.

——————————————————————

“I was thinking,” Sokka said between bites of seal jerky, “It’s been two weeks since we fought Azula, almost three. Zuko’s leg is pretty much healed, it’s time for _my_ life-changing field trip.”

“Aww, man! I thought _I_ got to go next,” Toph pouted.

“Shoulda called dibs,” Sokka shrugged, smiling. “Down low, too slow.”

“Great way to phrase that, calling dibs on your political prisoner,” Zuko said darkly. There was a pause, and then Toph laughed. She held up her hand for a high five, and after a moment of confusion, Zuko high-fived back. “How was that?” Zuko asked.

“Great,” Toph held two thumbs up, still smiling. “I _loved_ it.”

“I didn’t!” Sokka said.

“You had me worried for a second,” Katara sighed, relieved.

Well, Toph said she had some ideas for how to improve my humor after the “leaf me alone, I’m bushed,” joke went so well,” Zuko said, scratching the back of his neck, “but that didn’t really get the reaction I was hoping for either.”

“We should find someone who knows the first part of that joke!” Aang said. “We’re in the Fire Nation, there’s got to be…oops.” The conversation died down. “Um, I guess that’s a bad transition into saying that Katara and I didn’t find out anything about where Iroh is when we went out scouting today.”

“I should be going on missions with you guys,” Zuko said, picking at his dinner. “I could be helping you find him.”

“Too late, I already called you for _our_ mission,” Sokka said, putting his arm around Zuko’s shoulders.

“And what exactly are we going to be doing for our field trip?” Zuko sighed.

“You expect me to tell you _here?_ In front of _everyone?_ ” Sokka gasped, dramatically. “When we _all_ know that what happens on a field trip _stays_ on a field trip?”

“You’re the one who brought it up, meathead!” Toph said.

“I can’t _believe,_ ” Sokka sniffed, “that _anyone_ here would expect me to go against the sanctified code of a field trip with Zuko.”

Everyone laughed, and the conversation moved on. Sokka leaned conspiratorially and whispered into Zuko’s good ear. “But seriously, meet me outside by Appa tonight after everyone goes to sleep, okay?”

“Um, okay,” Zuko whispered back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some notes:  
> 1) Thank you for commenting! I really do appreciate it, they encourage me to keep writing, and I PROMISE adventures such as Toph's field trip are coming soon!  
> 2) I owe so many angsty headcanons to MuffinLance, if you want to hear more about the Fire Nation usage of the word "kindling" please read her Kindling AU https://archiveofourown.org/series/1746664   
> 3) Suns out, guns out. I love it when people say fire benders rise with the sun and wake up at sunrise, but no one ever says fire benders go to bed at sunset, so I said it, and I'm repeating it here.  
> 4) The word Aang couldn't remember for describing what would make Zuko a good Fire Lord was "honorable." THAT woulda been the word to convince Zuko they really understood who he is and care about him as a person. Shame Aang couldn't think of it. Iroh would have thought of it, had he been there, but *shrug*  
> 5) ...Yep, Mai and Ty Lee are at Boiling Rock, Azula sent them there after they tried to break Zuko out of prison.   
> 6) Zuko literally doesn't even KNOW what a therapist is, but he sure needs one. And yes, that was an angst coma, just like when he got a literal fever from setting Appa free, he got one when he helped the Gaang stop Azula. Boy's got "can't cope with being a good person" disease   
> 7) Yeah, Mushi is Iroh, I'll answer all related questions now by saying "I'm working on writing chapter 4"
> 
> Thank you for reading and leaving your lovely comments! I read all of them, they make me happy, I respond to as many as I can even if it's just a "thank you :)" This story is turning out to be much longer than I thought it would be, I had to spend all of chapter 3 just dealing with Azula aftermath and I didn't even get to Sokka's first field trip as I'd planned, but to repeat: I'm working on chapter 4! 
> 
> I hope you're enjoying reading as much as I'm enjoying writing it! I haven't written a fic this long EVER, I usually max out around 20,000 words. We're making history here, people, and there's more to come!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're all in luck, I procrastinated on the paper I have to write so hard I wrote the next chapter of this. With this chapter, we officially get to novel-length, and the story isn't over yet! Take THAT NaNoWriMo, I wrote 50k words in a month! I didn't write the paper I need to work on, you know, a school assignment that determines my grade, but we celebrate the little victories.
> 
> To clarify some questions I got about last chapter: the Dai Li are pretending to be nice to Azula for their own reasons, but are NOT loyal to her. The Dai Li have Iroh captive too, he is brainwashed and doesn't have any memories.
> 
> Questions about plot? I won't answer. Questions clarifying angsty components of the story? HELL yes I will answer them. And when you ask them, I understand where I haven't made the angst strong enough. I hope you enjoy chapter four!

“AAGH! Don’t _scare_ me like that!” Sokka hissed.

“You said to meet you by Appa! I’m by Appa!” Zuko gestured at himself (sitting on Appa’s leg) and then at Appa’s face. Appa yawned.

“Good,” Sokka said, brushing himself off. “Ready to go?”

“Not until you tell me where we’re going,” Zuko crossed his arms. “I trust _you’re_ not going to drag me off to Kyoshi island to atone for my crimes or whatever—“

“Okay, the way you say that implies you think somebody’s actually going to do that,” Sokka interrupted.

“—but that doesn’t mean I’m just going to follow you blindly,” Zuko finished. “So where are we going, and why are you wearing that?”

“Oh, this?” Sokka gestured grandly at the red curtain he’d wrapped around himself over his usual Water Tribe blue. “This is just what _fancy_ people wear, thank you very much.” He flipped one of the corners over his shoulder dramatically.

Zuko snorted.

“Hey, don’t be like that, this is _fancy,_ ” Sokka said, twirling.

“It’s a window curtain,” Zuko said. “I can _see_ the rings for the curtain rod.”

“That,” Sokka sniffed, “is my fancy jewelry. And I am wearing these fancy clothes, dear Fire Lord, because we’re going to prison.”

“Explain faster, because so far, I hate this plan,” Zuko glared.

“On the Day of Black Sun, a lot of people I care about got captured by the Fire Nation. My dad was one of them. But thanks to my top-secret intel, gathered using my master spy skills, I’ve determined that they are likely being held at the Boiling Rock!” Sokka said, flipping the curtain over his shoulder again, as fancy people do.

“So you talked to the first person you saw and asked them where they thought political prisoners would be kept,” Zuko sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Keep talking.”

“I know _technically_ there’s no Fire Lord right now, but you’re still a prince, right? If not _the_ Fire Lord! Who’s to say? So if _you_ were to make a surprise inspection of Boiling Rock, and decide to pardon several political prisoners I point out to you, say, in the interest of mutual peace and harmony among the nations—“

“Oh Agni, I don’t like this plan—“

“—then they’d _have_ to let them go! And we just pick up my dad and anyone else Water Tribe we can find and waltz right out of there!” Sokka finished grandly. “And I’m dressed like this to add that little touch of believability to the story, because people _always_ listen to people in fancy clothes. So, you’re gonna have to change,” Sokka said, gesturing at Zuko’s not-very-royal robes.

“Your plan is to fly into a Fire Nation prison, tell everyone I’m the Fire Lord, and fly out with your dad? On Appa? He’s flammable, and if we’re really going to pick up “everyone you point out,” we’re gonna need more room, anyway,” Zuko said, petting Appa as he spoke.

“It’s a good plan!” Sokka said, defensively.

“It _is_ a good plan,” Zuko stroked his chin thoughtfully, “but it’s got the wrong vehicle. We should take a war balloon, and fly the Fire Nation flag off the top.”

“Oh. _Oh,_ ” Sokka raised his eyebrows. “I like that. See? Communication. You made my already-great, guaranteed-to-work plan even better! Just like magic!”

“I’m gonna make it even better than that,” Zuko said evilly, rubbing his hands together. “We’re making a pit stop at the palace before we go. I’m afraid _you’re_ going to have to change, Ambassador Sokka.”

——————————————————————

“And you’re _sure_ that doesn’t hurt, because I think adding a, what-do-you-call-it, a palanquin? If we rode in on a palanquin, that would suit the fancy-Fire-Lord image just fine,” Sokka said.

“I’m not sure,” Zuko said, putting a little bit more weight on his cast. He’d found a cane, and if he could use it (even just for a little while) that would give him a little bit more dignity than the crutches. “It doesn’t _hurt,_ it’s just all fuzzy, but that’s normal after not using it for so long. I think if I don’t do _too_ much walking on it, it’ll be fine.”

“Aww. I kind of wanted to ride on a palanquin,” Sokka pouted.

“Spoken like someone who has no idea what they’re getting into at Boiling Rock,” Zuko shook his head mock-sadly. “How would we fit it on the gondola?”

“Fair,” Sokka conceded. “I don’t even want to _know_ what you did to get around with Aang and Katara, you couldn’t walk at _all.”_

“It wasn’t so bad,” Zuko shrugged.

“Okay, you say that, but you also said that _secret underground prison_ wasn’t so bad, so forgive me if I don’t trust your standard for what is and is-not bad,” Sokka squinted. “Wow. Is this the place?”

Zuko and Sokka stood in front of a large, elaborate door, dark and contrasting against the beautiful red walls of the palace. It was the entrance to the Fire Lord’s quarters, most recently occupied by Azula.

“When you look at it,” Sokka breathed, “you can’t even tell how much of the palace was destroyed. It’s _totally_ intact.”

“Yep,” Zuko said, shoving open the door with his shoulder. “Come on in.”

“Wait!” Sokka hissed. “ _This_ is something you’re not anxious about? That’s the _Fire Lord’s_ rooms!”

“So?” Zuko said. “I mean, I guess I was freaked out the first time, but Azula and I hung out in here a bunch since then.”

“No, I don’t believe it, you’ve got the weird look on your face again,” Sokka accused.

“Hmm, could it be that I feel guilty I forced my sister off the Fire Throne in dishonorable combat, betraying her to live halfway across the Fire Nation from us, in a seaside palace full of nothing but _therapists,_ that I’ve still never been to or seen because Aikoyo says Azula’s therapist Foman thinks it would be better if Azula saw me come alone, and I’m not back-on-my-feet enough to defend myself if she decides to kill me for that betrayal?” Zuko said, like he was reading a grocery list.

“Fine,” Sokka said. “You get a pass, make as many weird looks as you want.”

“Wow, thanks so much for your permission,” Zuko said sarcastically. He slammed his shoulder into the door again, and it creaked a little further open. Sokka followed Zuko into a _ridiculously_ big room, and he’d thought Zuko’s bedroom was big, but this was _insanity_ , there wasn’t even a bed! There were just more doors leading to more rooms and this was _all_ just for the Fire Lord? Zuko led Sokka through the first cavernous sitting area with chairs and sofas, through several other ridiculous rooms until they finally arrived at what looked like a closet, but it was big enough to walk inside. Sokka had _lived_ in huts smaller than this closet.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Zuko laughed, “I thought you were a world traveller who knew exactly how “fancy people” dress!”

“This…this is…” Sokka stared at it all, mouth hanging open.

“Yeah, it’s a bit much,” Zuko looked the closet and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Do you think I should get rid of it when the palace gets rebuilt? I—“

“This is _awesome!”_ Sokka squealed. “Oh my GOSH, oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh—“

“You like it?” Zuko blushed, somewhere between proud of his family’s wealth and embarrassed by it.

“Wait ‘till I tell Katara there are _closets_ you can _walk into!”_ Sokka gushed. He ran back and forth, running his hands over the silky fabrics of the robes and bright gems sewn in delicate lines and melted into jewelry. “You _live_ like this?”

“Of course not,” Zuko scoffed. “The _Fire Lord_ lives like this. I’m the banished prince, remember? I spent _years_ with nothing more than a change of peasant clothes, that might honestly be where I’m more comfortable now.”

“How can you say that?” Sokka said, gesturing grandly at the closet. “Look at all this stuff!”

“Um, my father and his fathers before him only got so much stuff from _attacking the world,”_ Zuko said, waving his hands around too. “How is this so exciting to you? It’s not making you mad? It’s making _me_ mad!”

“What can I say, I’m a boy who loves shopping,” Sokka shrugged. He grabbed a few outfits from the walls and threw them on a little couch in the center of the closet. “There was this…ooh, this is kind of embarrassing, but I’m gonna tell you. My first girlfriend was the princess of the Northern Water Tribe, and I…kind of had a fantasy that I’d marry her, and I’d be royal by marriage, you know? And then she’d have to teach me how to act royal and all I’d do was just practice walking around with my nose up in the air like a fancy person, wearing different royal outfits for every occassion—don’t look at me like that, it was a good fantasy!”

“It’s a good fantasy,” Zuko shrugged. “I mean…yeah.” He absentmindedly rubbed the scar on his face, remembering how different his royal “training” had been from what Sokka described.

“Yue…now _she_ would have appreciated going shopping with me,” Sokka sighed happily.

“What happened to her?” Zuko asked.

“Oh, um, she turned into the moon,” Sokka said, blushing suddenly and looking away.

There was an awkward silence as Zuko processed this.

“That’s rough, buddy,” Zuko said.

“I am _such_ an idiot,” Sokka said, slapping himself in the face. “This doesn’t count as our field trip anymore, okay? We’re still gonna break into Boiling Rock, but our _actual_ field trip is gonna be _shopping.”_

“If you say so,” Zuko shrugged. “You actually _like_ shopping?”

“Of _course!_ Don’t you?” Sokka asked.

“No? Of course not!” Zuko said. “Shopping is the _worst._ I had to do it all the time on the Wani, when I was…you know. You go into port, you argue with whoever’s there until they give you a discount or at _least_ until they stop making up taxes to slow you down, you buy vegetables you _know_ you’re not going to like eating, stuff like that.”

“ _What?_ ” Sokka screeched.

“You _need_ to stop screaming every time I say something,” Zuko said, rubbing his good ear.

“That’s not _shopping,_ that’s…that’s… _budgeting,_ or something!” Sokka flailed his arms around.

“What’s the difference?” Zuko asked.

“Budgeting you do because you _have_ to, to remain alive and buy food and clothes or whatever, budgeting is _boring,”_ Sokka sniffed. “Shopping is a magical adventure that you do to treat yourself!”

“I guess we _are_ going to have to do that together, because I still don’t understand what you’re talking about,” Zuko shook his head.

“You never spent any of your dad’s money on stuff for you? Random stuff, stuff you just _want._ Like that cool knife you have! Where’d you get it?”

“It was a gift,” Zuko said.

“You have so much to learn,” Sokka bowed his head solemnly. “Get ready to call me Sifu, because—“

“Are we going to Boiling Rock or not?” Zuko huffed, annoyed. “Can we talk about this later? Put on the stupid clothes! _You’re_ the one who came up with the plan!”

“Right!” Sokka jerked upright. “Which one should I wear? You know what, I’m just gonna try on a few, you can tell me what you think. You put on something that makes you look like the Fire Lord, okay? Something official!”

——————————————————————

“How do I look?” Sokka asked. Zuko sighed. This was Sokka’s fifth attempt at an “appropriately fancy” outfit. Zuko had just grabbed the least complicated robes he could find (everything here was a Fire Lord outfit, that was the whole point of coming to the Fire Lord’s closet) and pinned a crown into his hair, but Sokka kept ducking behind the screen, changing into an even more elaborate dress outfit, then emerging and walking around like a peacock-wren until he decided the outfit wasn’t good enough and went back for another. This time, Sokka emerged in—Zuko choked on his own spit.

Sokka wore a long red robe that trailed behind him on the soft carpet of the closet. It was interlaid with gold designs, including dragon flames dancing up the sleeves and along the hems. Zuko flushed bright red. He said a silent prayer of gratitude that it was nighttime, because if there was even a _hint_ of sunlight in this room, he was going to lose control and set himself on fire again. Zuko coughed awkwardly.

“It looks that bad?” Sokka sighed, stepping further into the open. The robes moved around him delicately, falling perfectly over his shoulders down into a low-cut back. “I thought it was nice!”

Zuko wheezed.

“You don’t have to make fun of me,” Sokka pouted. “Is it because it’s a dress? This isn’t the first time I’ve worn a dress, you know. You didn’t say anything about the last one, anyway, and _that_ was a dress!”

Zuko struggled to form words. He coughed awkwardly.

“What’s wrong with it?” Sokka twirled, and the fabric train settled into a beautiful star spreading out from him around the floor.

“That’s a wedding dress,” Zuko coughed out. “That’s…like, instantly recognizable as a traditional wedding dress.”

“Oh,” Sokka coughed, suddenly turning a shade of red to match Zuko. “I guess I shouldn’t wear it then, because people would assume—“

“—that we were getting married, and not breaking into a prison?” Zuko finished awkwardly. “Um, it looks good on you, though.”

“Oh, um, thank you,” Sokka said, twirling again. “I mean, you can’t pin that all on the dress, it’s _me_ who makes it look this good, and don’t you forget it!”

“I won’t,” Zuko said. He couldn’t look away. Sokka really _did_ look good in Fire Nation red.

“Why would this be in here?” Sokka asked, tracing one of the gold designs with a finger.

“I, um, I think it was supposed to be for my cousin,” Zuko said, grateful for the subject change. “When Lu Ten came over and didn’t have to be doing council meetings or battle training, he’d hang out with me, and…like, he was always talking about what his wedding would look like, we’d plan it together sometimes. He wasn’t even dating anyone, but we’d pick out appetizers and stuff, and how many layers the cake should have, we designed the dress—“

“Woah,” Sokka said, reappraising himself. “ _You_ designed this?”

“It was Lu Ten, really,” Zuko said, suddenly _less_ grateful for the subject change. “No, I mean it. He was the one who was interested in that stuff, he had…” Zuko got a little choked up, thinking about it. “He had a lot of plans for what he’d do when he came back from Ba Sing Se,” Zuko finished.

“Oh,” Sokka said, reading Zuko’s tone. “He didn’t make it back, did he?”

“He didn’t,” Zuko shrugged, trying to cover up how close he was to crying. Lu Ten’s death was so long ago, he should really have gotten over it by now.

“I’ll go change,” Sokka said, walking back behind the screen.

“Just pick something,” Zuko called after him. “The first one was fine!”

“We’re not _aiming_ for “fine,” Sokka smiled. “We’re _aiming_ for FANCY!”

——————————————————————

The war balloon drifted over the countryside, carrying two passengers in fancy attire. Sokka had decided against the wedding dress, opting instead for something halfway between armor and what you’d wear to a dinner party.

“I’m just _saying,_ ” Zuko continued, “that when _you_ say “what’s the meaning of life,” everyone goes, “wow, Sokka! You’re so deep!” but when _I_ say “what’s the point of being alive,” everyone asks me if I’m okay and if I need a hug.” He rolled his sleeves just a little bit higher on his arms so he could bend fire into the engine without catching the fancy Fire Lord robes on fire.

“Yeah, because they mean two very different things,” Sokka said, gesturing with a piece of seal jerky that he then proceeded to take a bite out of.

“I don’t get it,” Zuko said. “And you’re gonna get food all over yourself before we get there.”

“What can I say? I’m _starving!”_ Sokka did a weird voice and facial expression, then raised his eyebrows at Zuko.

“I don’t know what you’re referencing,” Zuko said, sitting back down in the boat.

“What? Tui and La, you weren’t there,” Sokka slapped himself in the face. “We were all on Ember Island, and there was this play about Aang—“

“You went _where?”_ Zuko gasped. “The Ember Island Players are the _worst._ They butchered “Love Amongst the Dragons” every year! There used to be a Fire Lord beach house or something there, we went there every summer when I was little, back when my family used to pretend to be happy.”

“It’s still there,” Sokka looked uncomfortable. “Um, that’s where we stayed. Your uncle said no one would bother looking there—“

“And he was _right,_ ” Zuko laughed. “When I was hunting the Avatar, I’d never have gone back there in a hundred years! But tell me more about this new play they put on.”

“We’ve _got_ to go check it out together, it’s probably still running,” Sokka smiled. “It’s _really_ bad. Toph liked it, though. If that’s how they tell Aang’s story, I kind of want to see them interpret Love Amongst the Dragons. I bet they’d make the battle between the opposing villages into a dance-off, or something else equally horrifying.”

“Wait, you’ve seen Love Amongst the Dragons?” Zuko perked up.

“No, I’ve just read it, I found a script in a market somewhere and I couldn’t put it down!” Sokka sat up too. “I wish I’d seen it! Wait, have you seen Spirits in the Dark, too? I read it, but I’ve never seen it performed—“

“Oh, Agni,” Zuko groaned, but he smiled. “Sokka, not only have I seen it, but I did vigilante justice dressed as the Blue Spirit. Like, _recently._ You can ask Aang about it, and Katara’s seen it too, but I _swear,_ if you tell them what it’s based on, I will _kill_ you.”

“Oh. My. God.” Sokka stared at him, mouth hanging open and eyes wide. “You _didn’t.”_

“I did,” Zuko said, blushing with embarrassment.

“Tell me everything!” Sokka leaned forward and rested his hands on his chin.

——————————————————————

The Warden knew his position was precarious. For all of the shouting and blustering and threatening he’d done over the years, he knew his livelihood hung by gossamer threads. The only thing that kept him from being deposed (as he’d deposed the Warden before him) was his immediate responses to the Fire Lord’s orders. What better way to demonstrate one’s loyalty than by one’s actions? Ozai was a particular fan of giving “special instructions” about his additions to the Boiling Rock, and the Warden had never been more proud than the first time Ozai’s letter had read “I leave his treatment to your discretion.” There were no sweeter words: the Fire Lord trusted him, and the Fire Lord was going to leave him alone.

He was never any good with the subtleties of politics. When Ozai had burned off his own son’s face, the Warden had supported him publicly, and it had been an _excellent_ threat to hold a fire close to a prisoner’s face and say something like “you think you deserve any better than Prince Zuko?” and other things like that. He didn’t have a way to cope with what was happening now. He’d never even conceived that it _could_ happen.

He’d understood Ozai. They’d gotten along. He’d had no worries when Azula was promoted to Fire Lord, because he’d already ingratiated himself to her by accepting _her_ special prisoners, even when one of them turned out to be his niece. He’d never once prepared for the possibility that it would be the banished prince ascending to the Fire throne.

Yet here he was. Fire Lord Zuko descended from the gondola, his crown glinting in the sunlight. His scar etched over his face, forcing his expression into a permanent scowl. The Warden had never seen that scar in person before, and descriptions didn’t do it justice—especially now that it was a reminder that loyalty to Ozai was an unacceptable fault under the new Fire Lord’s rule. Another man emerged from the gondola, wearing an elaborate costume with intricate designs. The Warden’s first thought was that this was a royal consort of some kind, but he’d learned his lesson about underestimating fighting ability when he’d tried to keep a Kyoshi Warrior under wraps. The second man was obviously a bodyguard of some kind, likely from the colonies if his skin color was any indication. The bodyguard handed Fire Lord Zuko a cane, and he used it to step forward, looking up at the Warden. A cane—the Fire Lord was injured? The Warden had heard that Zuko had ascended by default, and that no Agni Kai had occurred, but the fact that he was _here, openly_ using a cane, without fear, indicated that he was much more powerful than the Warden had heard. The Warden would launch himself into the boiling lake water before acknowledging the Fire Lord’s injury.

“Warden,” Fire Lord Zuko nodded.

The Warden breathed slightly more easily. He was keeping his job, for now, at least. But he’d have to prove his loyalty to the new Fire Lord, and he’d have to start from scratch. “Fire Lord Zuko. It is an honor to receive your presence here,” the Warden bowed lower than appropriate, and gestured for his guards to do the same. “If only you’d informed us of your visit sooner, we could have prepared to receive you better. What can I do for you?”

“You have prisoners that we would like to observe,” Zuko scowled. “We will be taking some of them with us when we leave.”

“Your Majesty,” the Warden bowed again, “that’s highly unusual. I can assure you, I hold myself and my men to the highest standard of—“

“Ambassador Sokka of the Water Tribe,” the bodyguard said, interjecting himself between Zuko and the Warden. He crossed his arms as he spoke. “I _believe_ you were saying we were beginning a tour of your facility, and that _of course_ the Fire Lord will remove whichever prisoners he desires.”

“Of course,” the Warden bowed, grinding his teeth. “Right this way.” Far be it from him to point out the Fire Lord’s odd choice of bodyguard. If he was imagining what a day in the Cooler would do for the Fire Lord’s attitude, that was his own private business, and it certainly wasn’t indicative of his loyalty to the Fire throne. He wondered idly if the bodyguard (and he _must_ be a bender, the Fire Lord wouldn’t be _that_ stupid) would be as effective when a wall or two separated him from the lake water.

——————————————————————

“Oooooh, something’s happening!” Ty Lee jumped up and down. “I can _feel_ it! The energy’s _different_ today!”

“You’ve said that before,” Mai sighed. “Is it already laundry day again?”

“I think you’re right, Ty Lee,” Suki said, pretending to look down at her food as she secretly scanned the cafeteria. “The guard rotation is different. Off schedule. Something must be wrong with the Warden.”

“I hate to be the one to say it,” Mai said in a monotone clearly indicating that she didn’t care, “but a one-time change in the guard rotation isn’t enough to make an escape attempt. We’d need a _real_ distraction.”

“Maybe this is it!” Ty Lee said. “We don’t know what’s going on outside, but if it made the Warden change his guard schedule—“

“Please, Ty Lee, quieter,” Hakoda said in hushed tones. “Keep talking, but _quieter._ We don’t need any eavesdroppers.”

“The guards can’t hear us from all the way up there,” Suki looked up at the patrols on the upper level.

“It’s not the guards I’m worried about,” Hakoda said, angling his head behind him towards a large man with a balding head.

“Chit Sang learned his lesson the last time he tried blackmailing us,” Mai said. She looked over at him and waved, smirking. Chit Sang flinched, and looked away from their table, back to his gang.

“Better to be prudent than weakened,” Hakoda said. He leaned in closer and spoke softly. “What do we think is happening outside that made the guards change their schedule?”

“Maybe the Fire Lord is visiting?” Suki suggested.

“I hope not,” Mai shuddered.

“If Azula is here, that’s _not_ gonna be good for an escape attempt,” Ty Lee shrugged. “Maybe we’re getting new prisoners transferred today?”

“No, they prepare for that stuff, this looks more unfocused,” Suki narrowed her eyes. “Something unexpected, something unplanned…do we know of anyone else who was planning an escape? Maybe they succeeded.”

“I can ask around,” Hakoda said.

“Everyone back to their cells!” One of the prison guards stood over the room with a megaphone. “Surprise inspection!”

“Yeah, I bet it is,” Mai rolled her eyes. All around the cafeteria, prisoners began standing up and shuffling towards the doors.

“You might be right, Suki. I bet someone _did_ try to escape, they _never_ end lunch early!” Ty Lee pouted. “I was still hungry.”

“We’ll meet back here as soon as they open the yard again,” Suki said. “Everyone stay calm. If anyone has a reasonable chance to get out, go for it, and get the rest of us. We know where each others’ cells are, and we’ll be stronger together. If you see the opportunity, take it.”

Hakoda nodded, and Ty Lee bowed politely. Mai shrugged, which was the equivalent of receiving a salute from anyone else. They did their secret handshake, and filed out of the cafeteria.

——————————————————————

Suki could hear footsteps in the hallway outside her cell. The accompanying voices were right outside her door when the footsteps stopped. She braced against the wall, ready to throw herself at the first person who came in. The Kyoshi Warrior wasn’t going to tolerate being shown off. She thought she’d made that clear the last time the Warden had showed up with a visiting general. She smiled a little bit at the memory. She’d broken the general’s jaw, she was _sure._ Since then, the Warden pretty much left her alone, and in return, she didn’t brutalize his guards. It looked like she was going to have to remind him what she was capable of.

The door opened, and in stepped a man who wasn’t wearing any armor, just a ridiculously fancy red dress. She launched off the wall and slammed her fist into his stomach, and he doubled over, wheezing.

“Suki, stop!” Sokka groaned. “It’s me!”

“What?” Suki paused. She looked down. This wasn’t a Fire Nation dignitary, this was _Sokka_ the Fire Nation dignitary. She looked up. Standing in the doorway was the Warden, and Zuko. Last seen burning down her village, now, apparently, the Fire Lord, judging by the crown in his hair. She snarled angrily, stepping over Sokka—

“Wait,” Sokka said, grabbing her ankle. “Suki, come on. Talk to me for thirty seconds before you kill anyone, okay? For me?”

She looked down at him. Same lovable stupid face, same wolf tail, same pleading look in his eye as the time he begged her to teach him how to fight.

“Maybe we should come back,” Zuko said, taking a few steps away from the door. _Good._ He _should_ be scared of her. She noticed he was using a cane to walk. She vaguely wondered what had happened.

“I’ll show you to the next prisoner you requested,” the Warden said, and he led Zuko away, followed by _so many guards,_ she’d never seen so many of them at once when there wasn’t a riot. And they all just walked away, leaving the cell door open.

She looked down at Sokka again, who smiled awkwardly. She offered him her hand and lifted him back to his feet. “Sokka,” she said, hugging him, “Sweetheart, you have five minutes to explain what’s happening.”

——————————————————————

Zuko was sweating bullets. He hoped the Warden didn’t notice. There was no _way_ he’d notice, Zuko had spent years crafting this scowl specifically to prevent anyone from noticing how he was actually feeling. It was infinitely better for people to assume Zuko was angry than to let them take advantage of Zuko’s fear. There was something a little upsetting about the Warden, and Zuko really didn’t want to be alone with him (and thirty guards), but Sokka was busy convincing Suki not to kill him, so Zuko would have to do the next part by himself.

“I know you asked to see your friend Ty Lee first, but my niece’s room is much closer,” the Warden was saying. “Would you mind seeing her now, or do you want to walk all the way around?”

_Don’t show any weakness, Zuko,_ he thought to himself. The Warden was pushing him, testing if he was really reliant on the cane. “That will be fine,” Zuko said, straightening up as much as he could. “I’ll wish to speak to her alone.”

“The guards are for your protection, your Majesty,” the Warden said, and Zuko stifled the urge to flinch, to _run away…_

“Are you questioning me, Warden?” Zuko asked, as calmly as possible. He tried to channel the same intimidatingly-pleasant tone his uncle had once used on Zhao.

“Of course not, sir,” the Warden bowed stiffly. “We’re here.”

Zuko looked at the cell door. It looked just like every other door in the place. Mai hadn’t gotten any special treatment, then. Azula must have really done a number on the Warden.

“I go in alone,” Zuko said, making eye contact with the Warden, who bowed. One of the guards turned a key in the lock. Zuko took a deep breath, and pushed open the door.

——————————————————————

“Got it,” Suki smiled. “I _like_ it. It’s a simple plan, but I think it’ll work. What do you want me to do? Am I a penitent soul who’s seen the error of her ways and swears fealty to the Fire Lord? Am I struggling to get away and you have to drag me out in cuffs?”

“Good question,” Sokka said, stroking his chin. “Um, I think you should be tensely cooperative, like we offered you a deal you couldn’t refuse. That fits with the cover story, and if something goes wrong, our best fighter won’t be in handcuffs.”

“Awww, you flatter me,” Suki said, kissing him on the cheek. “Can I point out people to take with us too? There are these two girls, they got sent here for committing treason—“

“Say no more,” Sokka held up a hand. “We’ll grab ‘em! Zuko said he thinks he’s got friends in here too, so I guess it’s going to be a little crowded on the war balloon home, but that’s why we took the balloon instead of Appa.”

“Let’s go get your father!” Suki exited the cell and took off down the hall.

“Wait,” Sokka said. “Look, I really want to see him. I _really, really_ want to see him. But we have to stick to the plan—we can’t just run around opening doors, we’d blow the whole plan. We need Zuko, _then_ we can run around opening door.”

“And you’re _sure_ he’s on our side?” Suki looked suspicious.

“Yes, I’m sure. For now, trust me, and then later, you can talk to him and decide whether or not you like him, but wait until we’re _out_ of here, okay?” Sokka took her hand.

“Okay,” Suki said, smiling. “I guess he can’t be so bad if _you_ like him.”

“Zuko’s friends were next on the list for prison visits,” Sokka said, pulling a scroll out of his sleeve and consulting it. “This way.”

——————————————————————

“Hey, Mai,” Zuko said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Zuko,” Mai looked up, surprised. She stood, and Zuko recognized her stance as the perfect position from which to throw knives, only she wasn’t holding anything. He _thought_ she wasn’t holding anything.

“Um, the Fire Lord terminates your imprisonment and regrets the inconvenience to your person,” Zuko said, fumbling over the statement he’d prepared with Sokka.

“Azula’s forgiven me and Ty Lee?” Mai raised an eyebrow.

“No. Um, I mean, I don’t actually know. I’m the Fire Lord now.”

“I see,” Mai said slowly.

Zuko looked nervously back towards the door, where he could only assume the Warden was listening. He leaned closer to Mai and whispered. “Mai, what happened?”

“Oh, you mean _after_ you ripped out my heart with that letter?” Mai took a step away from Zuko, still in a battle stance. “Let’s see, how did it go… Dear Mai, I’m sorry you had to find out this way, but I’m leaving.”

Zuko really hoped she wasn’t hiding a shank somewhere in her prison uniform. “I thought I’d be out of the Fire Nation by the time you read that,” Zuko flushed. “I didn’t want you to get mixed up in everything.”

“I seem to recall your letter explaining that you were going to teach the Avatar how to firebend,” Mai crossed her arms. “ _You_ tell _me_ what happened.”

“I told my father to fuck off,” Zuko said.

“Well, good for you,” Mai shrugged, smiling just slightly. “He was never nice to you.”

“…And then I walked right into the palace’s underground prison and got captured,” Zuko finished.

“I see,” Mai said, narrowing her eyes. “And _why_ did you do this immediately after committing treason?”

“I was going back for Iroh,” Zuko fidgeted. “I couldn’t leave him down there, not after I was so…I yelled at him. I said some things I regret.”

“I suppose it didn’t occur to you how it felt for me and Ty Lee knowing _you_ were down there,” Mai said. She moved, and before Zuko could react, she had a homemade shank at his throat. He froze. The tip of the blade touched him, but didn’t draw blood. “The Earth King invites you to Lake Laogai,” Mai said.

“Um…what?” Zuko said, confused.

“Oh, thank Agni,” Mai said, dropping the shank and taking Zuko into a hug. He hugged back, confused and surprised that Mai (known hater of physical touch) was hugging him. “I thought maybe Azula had them _do_ something to you.”

“She shot me with lightning,” Zuko said, still confused. “What are _you_ talking about?”

“It’s something I remember from Ba Sing Se,” Mai said. “Azula has plenty of friends that you haven’t met, Zuko.”

“I know,” Zuko said, “but she’s not in power anymore. What was that thing you said?”

“Nothing happened to you when I said it, so we don’t have to talk about it,” Mai said. “I’m so glad you’re alive. Wait, are you using a cane?”

“Yeah, broke my leg a while back,” Zuko said. “It’s almost healed, though.”

“How did you get out of prison?” Mai said, hiding her shank somewhere in her clothes again. “Ty Lee and I tried to sneak down to break you out, but Azula caught us, and after we failed to fight our way out, we got sent here. Did she have a change of heart?”

“No,” Zuko said. “…Oh, _that’s_ what she was talking about, I feel like an idiot. I think pretty much the same day as you did that, she showed up and fried me and said a bunch of stuff about loyalty.”

“So how did you get out?” Mai asked.

“That’s a complicated story,” Zuko said, eyeing the door. Technically, he realized, he hadn’t been officially pardoned, and he’d rather not discuss it where he was in danger of someone still loyal to Ozai overhearing. “You’re free to go, we’re picking up a few more prisoners too, and then we’re all taking a war balloon back to Caldera.”

“Who’s “we?” Mai asked.

——————————————————————

The Warden was suspicious, but not yet so suspicious as to say something about it. If this _was_ some kind of elaborate ruse (which the Warden didn’t think could be the case, as who else could possibly be left in Sozin’s line other than Zuko to be the Fire Lord?) at the very least, they were setting his nice free, and that was a good thing. He hadn’t liked keeping Mai a prisoner, but Azula had made it clear that he had no choice.

He now stood in the yard with Fire Lord Zuko, Ambassador/Bodyguard Sokka of the Water Tribe, his niece, her acrobatic friend, the Kyoshi warrior, and some other water Tribe prisoners.

“Is there anything else I can do for you while you’re here, Fire Lord Zuko?” The Warden bowed.

Zuko looked at Sokka, then at the rest of the prisoners, one by one. “That will be all,” Zuko said.

“In the past, the Fire Lord has wished to tour my facility, and see what quality of work I perform,” the Warden smiled. “The new Cooler system works surprisingly well, you would be impressed with how many of your enemies we can hold.”

“Thank you,” Zuko said, “but we’re ready to go.”

“What’s a Cooler?” Sokka asked. The Warden noticed that he was clinging to the arm of an older Water Tribe man, and there was a slight resemblance between the two. The Warden looked at Zuko for confirmation it was okay to explain such things to an _outsider._ Zuko nodded tightly.

“It is a refrigeration unit, designed to generate extreme cold. It is a deterrent to our firebender guests, as they can’t access their element inside it. Would you like to see?” The Warden wasn’t sure if he wanted them to leave immediately or if he wanted the Fire Lord to tour Boiling Rock and be so impressed he let the Warden keep working here forever.

“I kinda want to see,” Sokka looked at Zuko with big, pleading eyes. Zuko scowled at him, then scowled at the Warden, then scowled in general, thinking.

“Fine,” Zuko ground out. He turned to the Warden. “Send these people receiving pardons to wait for us in the gondola. Show us the Coolers.”

“I should come with,” Suki interrupted. “I mean,” and her voice got very serious and deep, “the Fire Lord made me an offer I can’t refuse. I’ll come too, to make sure the Ambassador knows I honor my promises.”

“Great,” Zuko said tightly, and then shook his head for a few seconds, squeezing his eyes shut. When he looked back up, he was the picture of calm royalty. “Take the Ambassador, the Kyoshi warrior, and myself to see the Coolers.”

——————————————————————

“This is a bad idea,” Zuko hissed. “Why are we doing this?”

“Relax,” Sokka whispered. “Everything is fine! The Warden doesn’t suspect a thing. I just want to see how the Coolers work! Imagine if we built something like that, but it could cool a whole room! It’s always so hot in the Fire Nation, and _some_ of us were raised in the South Pole.”

“I already told you, I _believe_ you that you designed the war balloon,” Zuko whispered, putting one hand over his face. “You don’t have to prove how smart you are, I get it.”

“You aren’t even the least bit curious how it works?” Sokka whispered.

“No!” Zuko spat back. “Just look at whatever you want to look at, but make it _quick._ I’m ready to get out of here!”

“Is something not to your liking, Fire Lord?” the Warden asked. It took every ounce of control Zuko possessed not to jump at the interruption.

“This conversation doesn’t concern you,” Zuko snapped. “How far to the Coolers?”

“We’re there,” Suki pointed. Metal cylinders lined the walls, with dials on the sides indicating something, Zuko didn’t care what.

“Woah,” Sokka said, running his hands over the side of one. “This is so cool! It looks like metal on the inside too, how do you insulate them?”

“Oh, thank you,” the Warden said, surprised at the compliment. “Well, we blah blah blah, blah blah blah.”

“Wow, do you blah blah blah, blah blah?” Sokka asked.

“I hate this,” Zuko whispered to Suki.

“The boy loves two things: shopping, and mechanical engineering. And his boomerang. And food. Well, Sokka loves a lot of things,” Suki shrugged.

“What are they even talking about? I can’t understand a word,” Zuko glared.

“Sokka asked about the blah blah blah blah blah of the blah blah blah,” Suki said.

“Uggggggggggh, I hate this so much,” Zuko ground his fists into his eyes.

“Can I go inside one?” Sokka asked.

“ _No,”_ Zuko snapped, at the same time the Warden said “If you wish to.” Everyone looked at each other. Zuko burned with embarrassment. _Don’t let your fear get in the way of the disguise,_ he told himself. “Open the door, but leave it open. I don’t want anyone getting accidentally trapped,” Zuko said.

“What must you think of me?” The Warden said, pretending to be hurt. “I would never insult the Fire Lord’s entourage by allowing such an _accident_ to occur. I’m afraid that the mechanism won’t work when the door is open, however, otherwise the insulation blah blah blah—“

“Shut up,” Zuko said. He almost demanded to be shown back to the gondola, but if he left Sokka now, there was no guarantee the Ambassador wouldn’t suffer an “accident” without the Fire Lord’s presence to protect him. “Do what Sokka says.” At least Suki was here to help if there was trouble, even though it seemed just as likely she’d attack Zuko as help him. Zuko groaned and stood several steps away from the Cooler, holding on to the railing and looking pointedly away from Sokka willingly stepping into it. His knuckles turned white where he held the metal. It was cold to the touch, like maybe the Cooler’s effects were spreading, or was he imagining that?

He squinted his eyes shut and tried to block out memories of the North Pole. He wasn’t there anymore, he wasn’t in that underwater ice cave surrounded by nothing but stupid animals big enough to crush him, he wasn’t dragging Aang through the snow, so he was fine. He was just standing in a _prison,_ the most secure prison in the entire Fire Nation, and he’d committed treason, _twice,_ and the Warden wouldn’t hesitate to throw Zuko into a Cooler if it would make Ozai happy, and nobody had ever hesitated to hurt Zuko if Ozai asked for it, and there was a hand on his back.

He opened his eyes. Suki was patting him gently. “Breathe, buddy,” she said. “Sokka’s almost done. We’re going soon.”

Zuko felt like he was in a fuzzy cloud, through which nothing could penetrate. Sokka finished examining the Cooler and talked a million miles a minute about it, and the Warden answered his questions, Zuko assumed. They walked back to the gondola, and Zuko did the proper bows and goodbyes expected from the Fire Lord, and then they rode up the cable with everyone they’d rescued. Sokka talked to his dad, and Suki, and all the other people that were there, and Zuko sat on the floor of the gondola (his foot hurt so much, he should have used the crutches and not just the cane) and tried to breathe. Mai and Ty Lee tried talking to him, but he was too focused on not throwing up to care about them. What had happened to him back there?

Everyone left the gondola and boarded the war balloon. Zuko tried to firebend the engine into starting, but he couldn’t do it on his first try. He felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest. He tried a few more times, getting increasingly frustrated. He needed to sit down and meditate, but there was no _time._ They had to _leave,_ immediately. Someone said something and touched his shoulder, and he threw fire at them angrily. They backed up, and he used the anger’s momentum to start the engine. The balloon filled with hot air and began to lift into the sky. People were talking, but Zuko focused on breathing and keeping the engine running. Finally, they were at the right height, on the way back to the Fire Nation. Someone in blue took Zuko’s shoulders in their hands and shook him, saying something in a muffled tone. That wasn’t their fault. Everything was muffled. It was like being in a cloud. And now they _were_ in the clouds.

“I’m just gonna take a nap right here,” Zuko said, and passed out.

——————————————————————

“This is, perhaps, partially my fault,” Mai said, looking down at Zuko. He was lying flat on the floor of the war balloon. The Fire Lord crown had fallen out of his hair. The robes were pillowed around him like he was floating in water.

“What? How?” Ty Lee looked up at her.

“Held a knife on him, checked if Azula had the Dai Li brainwash him,” Mai shrugged.

“If _what?_ ” Suki asked.

“It’s no big deal, they didn’t do anything to him,” Mai said. She looked around at the weird looks she received from everyone still conscious in the balloon. “He’s not brainwashed, you can all calm down.”

“Yeah, he’s just unconscious,” Sokka glared at her. “No, he was fine after he talked to you, something else must have happened, something when we were at the Coolers.”

“Yeah, he clearly didn’t want to go there,” Mai said.

“And then you kind of forced him to stay,” Suki pointed out.

“Shit,” Sokka said, putting his face in his hands. “This is my fault.”

“Looks like it,” Ty Lee said. “Uh, his chi’s all messed up, I can’t wake him. Does anyone have any smelling salts? Or calming tea?”

“I fucked up our field trip,” Sokka said sadly. “Good thing I already decided this one doesn’t count, and planned our _actual_ field trip.”

“Sokka, no one knows what you’re talking about,” Suki said, touching his cheek.

“But it’s okay, I think we’ve got enough hot air that we can make it back to Caldera even if he doesn’t wake up before then,” Sokka said, looking at some dials on the engine.

“This kid…is the Fire Lord’s son?” Hakoda asked, looking down at Zuko’s unconscious disheveled form.

“He’s Ozai’s kid, he’s maybe the Fire Lord now, there isn’t really an official Fire Lord anymore, somebody else can explain the politics of everything when we get back,” Sokka said, flailing his hands around. “Should we try to wake him? Do we let him sleep? What do we do?”

“I think he might need a doctor, but I also think he’ll be fine if we let him sleep for a few hours,” Ty Lee said, poking Zuko in a few seemingly random places. “Something’s up with his Earth chakra, at the base of his spine. It’s about survival, but I forget what blocks it.”

“Let’s get back to Katara,” Sokka said, fiddling with the balloon’s rudder. “She’ll know what to do.”

——————————————————————

_Zuko was having a nightmare. It felt real, though. He knew it wasn’t real, but it felt like a memory, like he was re-living it instead of dreaming it._

_In the nightmare, he’s made it out of the Fire Nation after the Day of Black Sun, and he follows the Avatar’s bison to one of the Air Temples. He presents himself and explains his plan to teach the Avatar firebending, and Katara knocks him down and sends him on his way. He spends every spare moment of the rest of his life proving himself, and it’s never good enough for them to accept him._

_It’s his idea to take Aang to the Sun Warriors temple, in a desperate attempt to become friends. He takes Katara to find the man who murdered her mother, just like she’d said she wanted before they took down Long Feng in real life. Katara blood bends and turns the rainwater into a dome, and Zuko realizes how close he came to meeting his death at her hands in the past. He takes Sokka to Boiling Rock, and they don’t go as the Fire Lord and friend, they go in disguise as guards. Zuko gets unmasked, and how could he NOT get recognized with the scar on his face? But the mission is too important, because if Sokka doesn’t get his dad back, he’ll never trust Zuko. So Zuko becomes a prisoner, and he doesn’t break Sokka’s cover. Zuko talks to Mai, who hates him for leaving. Sokka makes a plan that if Zuko gets in a fight, he could get thrown in one of the Coolers, and Zuko would rather suffer through that than risk Sokka’s wrath by turning him down. So he agrees to the plan, and he gets beat up in a fight, and then Sokka takes him up to the Coolers and puts him inside and locks the door._

_He’s supposed to do something, pull out the bolts or something so the Cooler will be able to break loose from the wall, but he can’t. The scene shifts, so it doesn’t really matter. The dream turns into his real memories, the ones he knows are true._

_He’s back at the North Pole. He’s in the cave, and he yells at Aang, who’s unconscious and tied up anyway. The others come for Aang, and Zuko’s bones are starting to freeze up, it’s so cold. He can’t fight them. He falls in the snow and he knows he’s going to die like this._

_He’s a little kid again, and he’s training with Azula. Once again, she completes the exercise quicker, better, and hotter than Zuko did. Their instructor makes Zuko hold ice cubes in his hands until they hurt, and then he tries it again. He does even worse this time. “If you can bend when you’re cold, you can bend anywhere,” the instructor says. “Do it again.”_

_He’s under the palace. He’s only been there a few weeks. There’s no sunlight, and the lack of it makes him weaker every day. It’s a different kind of cold from the North Pole. He thinks it feels like his inner fire is going out. Someone comes into the cell, and they loom tall over Zuko, like his father always did. They wear the uniform of a general. They say “It will be as Lord Ozai commands,” and they slam their boot down on Zuko’s leg until it cracks. He’s too weak to fight back or move away, and then he can’t move that leg at all. Father ordered it as a punishment for trying to escape, and then didn’t even come down to watch._

_The memories fade away, and he’s back in the dream sequence. He’s in the Cooler, and he practices his breath of fire like Uncle always taught him, but it doesn’t help. After a little while, the fire stops coming. Zuko’s pulled out the bolts long ago, fingers trembling, but Sokka doesn’t come back. He sits in a ball, trying to conserve energy, sticking his hands into his armpits. It’s cold. He shivers. This will kill him._

——————————————————————

Zuko opened his eyes. He was still in the war balloon, lying facedown in the bottom of the boat. Katara, Aang, Sokka, and a bunch more people were standing over and around him. He could feel a tingly sensation on his back, like Katara was doing the magic water thing again.

“What happened?” Zuko said. He tried to sit up, but he felt kind of dizzy. Floor was comfortable. Floor was a friend.

“You passed out,” someone said, and he couldn’t place the voice.

“It’s my fault, I’m so sorry Zuko,” and that sounded like Sokka gushing guiltily over him. “I really wanted to see how the Coolers worked, I didn’t mean to—“

Zuko managed to flip himself over so he was looking up, and only then realized that someone had cut a slit down the back of his robes so they could heal him. He felt the wood of boat on his aching back. “Did the Warden attack me?” Zuko asked. “Am I hurt?”

“There was a blockage in your Earth chakra,” Katara said, coiling her water back into the thermos. “The Earth chakra deals with survival, and is blocked by fear. Something happened to you that stopped the flow, which disturbed the chi of your whole body, and you passed out.”

“Awesome,” Zuko said, closing his eyes and letting his head _thunk_ backwards onto the floor of the boat. “How many people are watching?”

“Not many,” Katara lied.

“One of these days,” Zuko sighed, “I’ll die of embarrassment, and I bet your magical water powers won’t be able to heal that.”

——————————————————————

“Azula? What are you doing out of your room?” Foman walked briskly behind her.

“I considered getting your attention by setting something on fire,” Azula said, “but I’ve already seen the consequences for burning down _one_ palace. Abandoned by my brother, exiled here like I _am_ my brother…”

“You’re feeling contemplative today,” Foman said. “Should I ask the agents to fetch something else for you to set on fire? Something less noticeable if it goes missing? Some _one_ less noticeable—“

“Amusing,” Azula said, “but as you can see, I’ve found my own entertainment.”

“Yes, I can see that,” Foman said, careful not to stumble along the cobblestone path. “But what can you possible want in town that we haven’t provided for you? There’s no need to—“

“I’d almost think there was something in town you didn’t want me to see,” Azula said, sparking blue lightning down her fingertips.

“I don’t want the people in town to see you,” Foman said, carefully. “If you are to become Fire Lord again, any sign of weakness displayed here could be hazardous.”

“So move them out of the town,” Azula waved her hand dismissively.

“Not possible,” Foman said.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Azula widened her eyes sarcastically. “Do you forget who your Fire Lord is, Foman?”

“Of course not, your Majesty,” Foman bowed.

“Good,” Azula said. She turned back and began walking back up the path towards the seaside palace. Foman relaxed just slightly, and gestured for a few agents hidden out of the way to stand down. If she’d gone much further, insisted a little bit more on leaving the palace…well, that simply wouldn’t do. “I’ve changed my mind,” Azula sniffed. “I _do_ want something to set on fire. Something expensive. Have something brought. _Not_ a person, don’t think I missed your suggestion earlier.”

“At once, your Majesty,” Foman bowed again as Azula reentered the palace, slamming the door behind her.

Foman took several deep breaths, calming himself. He turned around and looked back at the open space. He stared angrily at the path. “Shu Gi,” he called.

“Yes, sir,” Shu Gi saluted, appearing as if from nowhere beside Foman.

“I ordered you to keep Azula inside the palace,” Foman said. “If she discovers what we’re doing to her uncle, or if she guesses what we’re planning for her brother before we’re ready to go through with it…”

“Yes, sir,” Shu Gi said. “I know, sir. As I said before, I recommend we implant that suggestion as soon as possible. It seems the only way to keep her inside the palace.”

“If that is your only solution to every problem,” Foman snarled, “perhaps you’ll go the same way as Long Feng.”

“Sir. Respectfully, the situation with Azula seems no different than the situation with Zuko,” Shu Gi said. “You were the one who proposed influencing Iroh, why do you reject influencing Azula?”

“A beautiful euphemism we use,” Foman smiled. “ _Influencing._ I suppose you haven’t read some of the earlier texts of Dai Li history.”

“By understanding the past, we understand the present. By understanding the present, we control it. By controlling the present, we create the future,” Shu Gi recited.

“Yet you haven’t read the account of Xaonang, have you?” Foman said, raising an eyebrow. “He was not the first person the Dai Li ever _influenced,_ but he was certainly the most affected by it. It was an earlier time, before we knew the risks.”

“I have not studied him,” Shu Gi said.

“Xaonang was a Dai Li agent who voluntarily submitted to The Influence on many occasions,” Foman said. “He completed many missions, as a different man for each one, but he always returned to himself when the time was right,” Foman said. “Until one day, of course, he did not.”

“…What happened?” Shu Gi asked.

Foman smoothed his robes and looked Shu Gi in the eye. “You will study the appropriate texts at your earliest convenience that doesn’t conflict with your duties guarding Azula. If you have further questions, you will consult me. I stand by my decision—Azula will be influenced only if it becomes absolutely necessary.”

“If the results of influencing are truly so potentially terrible, why did you insist on it for Iroh? Why do you plan to use it on Zuko?” Shu Gi asked.

“You stray into areas you should not,” Foman glared. “All will become clear over time. I will not be questioned.”

“My apologies, sir,” Shu Gi bowed.

“If it is not clear to you that the value of Azula far outstrips that of her family, it will become clear soon,” Foman smiled graciously. “Leave me.”

Shu Gi disappeared into the background, as quietly as he had arrived. The sounds of lightning crackled from inside the seaside palace.

——————————————————————

“Let’s go into town for dinner tonight,” Aang said. “We can show your dad that one bakery that makes that spicy bread!”

“That _is_ some good bread,” Sokka said, rubbing his stomach. “Zuko, are you feeling up to it?”

“Sure,” Zuko shrugged. “I’ll go get my cloak.”

“Didn’t you already eat?” Hakoda raised his eyebrow. “I just saw you in the dining room with some other Fire Nation people in guard uniforms.”

“That was first dinner,” Zuko said. “I usually have second dinner with my friends. Um, why are you looking at me like that, Sokka?”

“Are those words… _real?_ ” Sokka was choked up. He wiped away a nonexistent tear. “We’ve been eating _second_ dinner all this time? What’s _first_ dinner? I might be in love.”

“I assumed you knew,” Zuko said, confused. “I told you firebenders usually eat more than others—“

“Stop talking,” Sokka said, happily. “Let’s go have second dinner, and tomorrow, I want an invite to first dinner with the firebenders!”

“I hate to bring it up,” Zuko said, “but as long as we’re on the subject, I’m guessing you don’t usually eat third dinner, either.”

_“What?”_ Sokka yelped.

——————————————————————

“Are you alright?” Hakoda asked. Zuko jumped, for the third time in a row that Hakoda had tried talking to him, and he landed weirdly on his crutches. It took him a few moments to compose himself, which included putting his hood back up over his face.

“I’m alright,” Zuko said.

“What happened to the robes, and the crown?” Hakoda asked.

“Oh,” Zuko said, relaxing. “That was just for the break-in at Boiling Rock. I’m not actually the Fire Lord.”

“…What?” Hakoda asked.

“Dad, I told you,” Sokka said. “Zuko’s a good guy. He’s on our side. Don’t give him the third degree.”

“If he’s not the Fire Lord, who is?” Hakoda asked.

“There isn’t one,” Zuko said. He pulled his hood a little further over his face as he said it.

“Now I’m really confused,” Hakoda said. “Who’s running the Fire Nation?”

“Technically, nobody,” Zuko shrugged. “I think everyone’s waiting for my father or Azula to come back. Practically though, me, I guess. I talk to generals when they come to Caldera. Sometimes I issue an order or two.”

“Why all of this?” Hakoda gestured. “The regular clothes, the hood covering your face, the crutches. You’re not even wearing the crown. You don’t want to be recognized in town?”

“Dad,” Sokka pulled on one of Hakoda’s arms. “Stop bothering him.”

“I just wear regular clothes,” Zuko shrugged, scowling. “I _don’t_ walk around in the Fire Lord’s crown all day. And I don’t like people looking at my scar, and I need the crutches to walk, probably for another week before I’m healed enough to walk without them, okay?”

“Well, that doesn’t answer my original question,” Hakoda sighed.

“What’s that?” Zuko snapped.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m _fine_ ,” Zuko hissed. “Your daughter fixed my chakra or whatever, I took a nap, I’m _fine._ ”

“You’re probably right,” Hakoda said. “So why are you scared of me?”

“I’m not,” Zuko visibly flinched.

“ _Woah,_ ” Sokka said, taking a step away and looking his dad up and down. “Dad, did you do something to Zuko?”

“He didn’t. Nothing is wrong,” Zuko said. He hiked his crutches up under his arms and walked faster.

“I was a ship’s captain for a long time,” Hakoda said. “I know when someone is afraid of me.”

“I’m not,” Zuko insisted, turning a little bit red. “I mean…It’s not you.”

“Mind telling me what it is?” Hakoda asked. “I don’t make a habit of intimidating my son’s friends.”

“That’s true,” Sokka said, putting his hand over his face. “Remember that time you decorated the whole igloo when I had Puk over?”

“He was your first boyfriend, I was trying to be supportive!” Hakoda smiled.

“We were just playing with action figures, not having a party,” Sokka groaned, but smiled at the memory.

“It’s not you, sir,” Zuko insisted. “It’s _really_ not. But look, there’s the place up ahead, Aang is already there.”

Everyone took the opportunity to change the subject, to Zuko’s visible relief. They joined Aang at the little restaurant, and Hakoda only coughed a little bit before getting used to the spicy bread appetizer.

“You weren’t kidding about Fire Nation portion sizes,” Hakoda said when their food arrived. Zuko already had his mouth full of fire-salmon. “How am I supposed to eat all this?” Hakoda turned to Sokka, who had _also_ stuffed his face with fire-salmon.

“I was concerned about food waste too, Hakoda. At first,” Aang said. He had a vegetable dish of some kind in front of him, tinged red with characteristic Fire Nation spices. “But anything we don’t eat is composted. It’s one of the ways the Fire Nation copes with the harsher soil in this area. It’s nothing like the volcanic areas, _there_ the soil is really rich—“

“Thank you, Aang,” Hakoda said, awkwardly. He took a tentative bite from his plate, wary that it would be too spicy. It was delicious. He could see why Sokka loved it so much. He ate a bit more.

——————————————————————

When they were done with dinner, they walked back to the apartment building. Sokka and Hakoda went ahead, and Zuko walked slower. Rather than running and jumping ahead as he usually did, Aang walked with Zuko.

“Sokka’s…lucky to get his dad back,” Zuko said, after the awkward silence got to be too much.

“Yeah,” Aang said. “You really helped him.”

“Yeah,” Zuko said.

“…Do you ever miss _your_ dad?” Aang asked.

“No,” Zuko said, too quickly. “Sometimes,” he amended. “I don’t want him back, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I guess I’m wondering what’s up with you and Hakoda,” Aang said. “You haven’t even known him for a full day, did he really scare you that bad?”

“It’s not that,” Zuko sighed. “I just…he’s kind of like Iroh. He’s nice, he cares about his kids, he’s…I don’t know. He’s nice. But we still don’t know where my uncle is…do you think he’s dead, Aang?”

“I don’t know,” Aang said, rubbing Zuko’s shoulder.

“I mean, where else would we even look,” Zuko said, looking at the ground. “He’s not in the city, his Pai Sho buddies don’t know where he is…either he’s dead, or he abandoned me.”

“He wouldn’t do that,” Aang said.

“Then he’s dead,” Zuko said.

“…We don’t know that,” Aang said.

“I miss him,” Zuko said. “I feel like…I feel like I did right before I told my father to fuck off. I think about Uncle, and I just think about all the times I yelled at him, and I was going to apologize for everything when I broke him out of prison, and then he wasn’t there, and then when he came back for me all I did was yell at him even more.”

“You weren’t yourself,” Aang said. “You’d been hurt, really bad. I might’ve done the same thing if it happened to me.”

“I pushed him away,” Zuko said, “and he let me do it, and now he’s gone, and I’ll never see him again.”

“We’ll find him,” Aang said, hugging Zuko so they both had to stop walking. “If he’s out there, we’ll find him, and if he really is…gone…we’ll give him a proper funeral.”

Zuko hugged Aang back, and he didn’t say anything, and if he did cry, Aang knew enough to pretend not to notice.

——————————————————————

Toph ambushed them as soon as they returned to the building. “Zuko, it’s time,” she said.

“Time for what?” Aang asked.

“This doesn’t concern you, Twinkletoes,” Toph grinned. “Go inside and meditate or something.”

“If you’ll excuse me, _I_ should be meditating—“ Zuko started, trying to slip past Toph.

“Oh, no you don’t, Sparky,” Toph said, grabbing his collar. “It’s time.”

“Time for _what?”_ Aang asked. “Are you finally going on your field trip?”

“Nope,” Toph said. “Sokka make me promise to wait until after his.”

“I thought the Boiling Rock thing was Sokka’s field trip,” Aang said.

“Sokka said it doesn’t count,” Zuko and Toph said it together.

“Sokka said he has to take me shopping,” Zuko said.

“And this is _much_ more important than my field trip, which we _will_ be having,” Toph said, elbowing Zuko.

“What is it, then?” Aang asked.

“Toph wants me to teach her how to swear,” Zuko sighed, rubbing his forehead.

“It wasn’t a big deal before, but the Water Tribe people keep being weird around me! They’re treating me like a child. I need to be able to swear like a sailor,” Toph said.

“You really don’t,” Zuko said.

“Zuko,” Aang said seriously, taking both of Zuko’s hands in his own. “As the Avatar, I need to master _all_ types of bending. If you refuse to teach me and my friend how to curse-word-bend, you could be responsible for the _destruction of the world._ ”

Zuko looked back and forth between Aang and Toph. There was a long pause as he considered this. “No!” Zuko shook his head. “I’m not doing that.”

“Please?” Toph said.

“Pretty please?” Aang said.

“It’s after sunset,” Zuko yawned. “I’m going to bed.”

——————————————————————

“Katara, I had the _greatest_ idea,” Sokka whispered.

“What are you doing in my room?” Katara yawned and rubbed her eyes. “What time is it?”

“How am I supposed to know?” Sokka asked. “Get up, get up, get _up!”_

“Yeah, Katara! Get up!” Toph said.

“Toph is also here,” Katara groaned.

“Hi, Katara,” Aang waved.

“ _What_ are you all doing in here?” Katara sat up, now fully awake and angry.

“That’s what _I_ said,” Zuko grumbled. “They don’t go away.”

“What _time_ is it?” Katara glared. “It’s so dark outside.”

Zuko held his arms straight out, and turned a few times. “Sunrise is about five and a half hours away,” he said.

“What idea,” Katara said, lying back down and pulling her blanket back over her head, “could possibly be worth waking me at this hour, Sokka?”

“It’s _really_ good,” Sokka said. “We—“

“Stop,” Katara held up a hand. “If this is like the time you woke me up because you _swore_ there was a ghost and that we _had_ to trap it so you could prove to me it existed, I’m going to kill you.”

“Noted,” Sokka said. “But we—“

“ _Or_ the time you woke me up because you had a dream about the perfect way to build an igloo and we had to do it before you forgot,” Katara glared.

“Yeah, I admit that in the cold light of day, that one didn’t work out, but—“

“ _Or_ the time you woke me up because you finished carving a betrothal necklace and you needed to know immediately if anyone would wear it,” Katara said.

“Wait, was this in the North Pole? Did you make a necklace for Yue?” Aang asked.

“No,” Sokka blushed.

“This was before we met you, Aang, he was 7 at the time,” Katara said.

“You can never prepare for those things too early!” Sokka said. “But Katara, you’ll _never_ guess what I found!”

“What,” Katara poked her head out of the blankets.

“Cactus juice!” Sokka grinned, holding up three bottles of green liquid.

“Nooooooo,” Katara groaned, tucking back into the blanket cocoon.

“Yes, only the quenchiest of quenchies,” Sokka smiled, clinking the bottles together. “We’re gonna drink it and go star tipping!”

“Or, here’s an idea, you let me go back to sleep,” Katara said, and it was muffled under the blankets.

“I’m still not sure what star tipping is, but my plan is to get Zuko drunk enough to teach me curse words,” Toph said.

“I would also like to go back to sleep,” Zuko said.

“Star tipping is the _best_ , Toph!” Aang said. “You look up at the stars, and you spin in a bunch of circles as fast as you can, and then you try to walk in a straight line, and fall over!”

“Sounds great,” Toph deadpanned. “I’m sure I’ll love it.”

“I already thought of a solution, my dear Blind Bandit,” Sokka said. “If you lie down and _we_ spin you around by your hands so your feet don’t touch the ground, it should disorient you the same way! _Especially_ on cactus juice. It’s the quenchiest!”

“I’m not drinking cactus juice,” Katara said.

“I know,” Sokka rolled his eyes. “You’re coming because you love me and don’t want to see me get hurt!”

“That’s a better argument,” Katara said, sitting up. “I don’t want to spend the next few days healing everybody, so I _will_ come along and _stop_ you from star tipping.”

“That’s the spirit!” Sokka said, dragging her out of the blankets. “Come on! We’re going outside!”

——————————————————————

“Ohhhhhh Agni,” Zuko groaned. “This doesn’t feel good. Sokka, you said this was supposed to feel good.” Sokka, Zuko was upset to discover, had turned into a large turtleduck and was waddling around the courtyard quacking.

“You feeling okay?” Katara asked. She was touching his forehead.

“Aang and Momo switched,” Zuko said.

“…I don’t understand,” Katara said.

“It makes sense,” Zuko said, leaning back into the grass. “Or, it made sense when I said it.” He couldn’t remember what he’d meant, but he supposed it didn’t matter, as he couldn’t remember which Katara he’d been talking to. There were now fifty Kataras. One of them was even Toph, which was weird.

“Yoooooouuuuuuuu shhhhhhoooooouuuuuulllllllddddddd ssssssssiiiiiiiiiiiittttttttt uuuuuuuuuuuppppppp,” the Kataras said.

Zuko made a gallant effort to comply. He could honestly say he’d never tried harder at anything in his life. Hunting the Avatar was _nothing_ compared to the amount of effort it took to sit up. The world was ridiculously fuzzy. The whole _world_ was as fuzzy and fluffy as Appa. So cozy. He couldn’t be blamed for going back to sleep. Was it _his_ fault the turtleduck dragged him out of bed at a ridiculous hour?

——————————————————————

“Good morning,” Katara said.

“Ouch,” Zuko said, covering his ears. “Why are you screaming at me?”

“I’m not,” Katara said. “So much for “rising with the sun.” Are you going to sleep all day?”

“Wha—?” Zuko blinked sleepily awake. Agni was high in the sky, and much much _much_ too bright.

“I’m checking on everyone,” Katara said. “I _said_ cactus juice was a bad idea.”

“You were right,” Zuko groaned.

“Are you injured?” Katara said. “You fell asleep first, so likely not, but if you got hurt, I missed it.”

“I don’t think so,” Zuko said, rubbing his eyes. “Everything hurts. Is that normal?”

“No,” Katara said, setting down a plate of food and a cup of water.

“Any chance of fixing my leg?” Zuko groaned.

“We talked about that,” Katara said. “Unless you want me to break it again and set it properly, you have to let it heal naturally.”

“Oh yeah,” Zuko said, curling up in his blanket. “I think I’m going to throw up.”

“Toph already did,” Katara said. “In the bucket if you can, okay?” She kicked a small bucket closer to him.

“Oh Agni,” Zuko mumbled. “Everything hurts.”

“Have we learned our lesson about cactus juice?” Katara asked.

“Definitely not,” Zuko said, “because if we did, I can’t remember what it was.”

“I’m gonna go check on Sokka again,” Katara said. “Yell if you need something, Aikoyo is outside your door. She’s the one who carried you back up here.”

“I need…to sleep…for the rest of my life,” Zuko said.

“Have fun,” Katara said.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost didn't post this update yet, because I thought "I'm so close to the end, I might as well just finish it before uploading." Then I realized I have at least one, maybe two more full chapters to write, so here's chapter 5. Insert meme of Kronk saying "oh yeah. it's all coming together." because we're just about in the home stretch

Everyone recovered from the cactus juice incident, and a few days later, Zuko faced down a stack of letters. There were more of them this week than there were the week before. It seemed that, like they had when Azula had first gone missing, the Fire Nation military, navy, and air corps were willing to look past Zuko’s physical situation (namely, not-in-the-throne-room) and now preferred to ask Zuko’s advice rather than make their own decisions. It would only be a matter of time until he started having to deal with taxation rates and rebuilding infrastructure again. For now, though, it was just more of the same. He received letters asking about troop deployments and which Earth Kingdom towns to attack, and he wrote back that troops should be _recalled_ back to the Fire Nation and that _no_ Earth Kindgom towns should be attacked.

It was amusing (in kind of a horrible way) how he’d gotten so many in-person visits when he was in prison, and now all he got was mail. He wasn’t sure there was a better way to go about this stuff, though. He still wasn’t sure he’d been pardoned, and it wasn’t as if he could live in the palace while it was half-destroyed, and there was _still_ no official Fire Lord. He wondered if Iroh had planned it that way when he challenged in absentia. He wondered if Azula (or anyone else in the Fire Nation) even cared about those kinds of formal rules anymore, now that Ozai was gone. Usually, he did his best to avoid thinking about Ozai.

Which was why he’d gotten into a routine for this part of his day. In between sunrise and when the rest of Team Avatar usually woke up, he had anywhere from two to five hours. So he ate breakfast with Aikoyo and everyone Fire Nation, then answered his correspondence, then he ate brunch with Aang and everyone not-Fire Nation and did whatever it was they wanted to do that day. A surprising portion of it turned out to be training—Zuko had assumed that Aang had to have mastered all the elements in order to beat Ozai, but Aang was still honing some of his skills. (Later that day, Zuko was getting his cast off, and he kind of wanted to train with and/or spar with Aang, if it wasn’t going to be too weird.) For the actual answering-correspondence part of the morning, he did it alongside his mediation exercises, so he’d be able to keep focused. He’d tried using candles as he’d always done before, but something about it wasn’t quite right. Just watching his breathing patterns on a candle didn’t do much to distract him from the crushing weight of the responsibilities of managing a kingdom. So he made tea instead.

It was uncomfortable for everyone the first time he’d tried it. He’d asked for materials to make tea, and he’d been brought completed tea, ready to be served. Someone on the palace staff had remembered that it was beneath Fire Nation royalty to make their own tea, and it led to some awkward conversations and arguments over the teapot. When he finally got what he wanted, he made tea, tried drinking it, and almost threw up. He had three other people taste it. It _didn’t_ taste like sleeping drugs, they had all confirmed it, and he _knew_ he hadn’t put anything in it other than leaves. But apparently, he was not yet comfortable drinking tea. So here was his mediation exercise: He measured out the tea mixture, he heated cups individually in his hand, he mixed it, and he offered it to whoever happened to walk by his room. He could do it in one hand (mostly) so he could write while he did it, and it was a _great_ meditation exercise—it made him think of Uncle, but only the parts that he liked remembering, like traveling around the world together and even serving tea in Ba Sing Se together. He tried it a few times, but he couldn’t make himself drink it. _That_ was a memory he didn’t want to relive, and it wasn’t _quite_ Uncle, anyway. So he made tea while he answered his letters. He’d started to get attached to the calming pattern of the routine.

He looked at today’s pile of scrolls, and sighed. He measured out the right mixture of the leaves he wanted, and poured out some water into cups. He picked up the first one in his left hand (he’d hold the brush in his right when he was ready to start writing). He closed his eyes and let a small flame build under the cup, warming his hands, but not burning them. He focused on the smooth texture of the cup, and how it felt when it started to collect the heat. He opened his eyes and picked out the letter that looked the oldest to start with.

And then Aikoyo knocked on the door. Probably asking if he needed anything. “Come in,” Zuko said.

Aikoyo entered the room, and bowed, which was unusual, because Zuko was pretty sure they’d gotten past that a while ago. “How are you feeling today?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” Zuko smiled, and it was true. He liked his little morning ritual. It grounded him, and helped him feel centered for the rest of the day.

“What I’m about to say may change your answer,” Aikoyo said.

Zuko closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. He focused on the tea cup, and let the warmth of the flame envelop it and himself. He was calm. “That’s all right. I’m sure whatever it is, we can work through it together, and my friends would love to help. What is it?”

“General Ikoru is outside,” Aikoyo said, and Zuko felt his flame flare out of control for a second, surrounding the cup in a fire ball, cracking it. Water splashed on the ground and on one of his knees, but fortunately it wasn’t yet hot enough to injure him.

“…What?” Zuko asked. He flipped through his notes. “I recognize his name. He sent me…two letters a day last week, all about the same subject. He’s in charge of a fleet, and he wants to barricade one of the colonies for their “protection,” I think he said. He’s… here?”

“He’s outside,” Aikoyo said. “He claims that his letters have clearly been ineffectual if you haven’t supported his decision, and he wants to confirm personally that you are receiving them and understand the situation.”

“Ugh,” Zuko groaned, putting his head down on the table.

“I told him I would check if you are available,” Aikoyo said. “As you requested, I did not mention that your leg is still broken or in any way indicate you might not be at your full health. I told him you have many people who wish to visit you, and it is possible you will not have time to meet today. I suggested he should have made an appointment before barging in and assuming you would make time for him.”

“Thank you,” Zuko sighed.

“I can tell him you’re occupied and invite him back at a later time,” Aikoyo said. She rolled up her sleeves a little bit. “Or I can encourage him to leave, _and_ to spread the word that you are _not_ taking visitors.”

“No thank you, Aikoyo. But I do appreciate it,” Zuko said, picking his head back up. “I’ll talk to him. I’m just surprised he bothered to come down here, we’re not even in the palace. Am I supposed to start having council meetings _here,_ now?”

“You’re not _supposed_ to do anything,” Aikoyo said. “I would be happy to encourage him down a flight of stairs—“

“No thank you, Aikoyo,” Zuko said. He picked up a new cup of water and started his breathing exercise again. He was calm. He’d already responded to the general’s plans in writing, and he would repeat himself as many times as necessary. “Send him up.”

——————————————————————

General Ikoru fumed quietly outside the apartment building until the guard captain returned, bowed (but not as low as he deserved) and explained that Zuko was willing to see him. It was a bold move, that the prince had not yet claimed the title of Fire Lord for himself, but if he was anything like his family, he was being cautious and circumspect until the full political situation became clear.

Ikoru followed the captain down a hallway, up a ramp, to a bamboo door. This building was nothing like the Fire Lord’s palace—well, nothing like the palace _had_ been. The palace was dark, full of red tapestries and paintings, and ostensibly fireproof (but not Azula-proof). This building was full of light (a demonstration that the new Fire Lord appreciated Agni’s blessings), decorated with paintings of landscapes and what looked like a child’s drawings as opposed to royal portraits, and it was not fireproof at all. An inexperienced firebender could, by accident, destroy it in less than an hour (a testament to the new Fire Lord’s control, where Azula had failed to demonstrate it). It was also _full_ of people, including guards and palace staff, and he’d heard rumors that even the Avatar and his company had rooms here. Aikoyo knocked on Zuko’s door, then gestured for Ikoru to enter.

Ikoru found Zuko sitting at a small table, with a stack of scrolls on one side of him, a small teapot and other various accoutrement on his other side, and a blank page spread out in front of him, with a brush ready to go. In one hand, the young Fire Lord (Temporary Fire Lord? Interim Fire Lord?) held a tea cup, and he used firebending to warm it. Ozai had relied on the wall of flame to prove his power, but it seemed Zuko’s techniques were to be much more understated. Ikoru quickly bowed and presented himself according to protocol.

“Please, sit,” Zuko gestured.

Ikoru sat, and explained that it was likely the Earth Kingdom would launch an attack on the colonies in an attempt to retake them before the Fire Nation solidified their power again. He believed that an armada of ships could suitably deter this potential threat, if deployed so that—

There was a soft clinking sound. Zuko had apparently finished heating his cup to the proper temperature, and was mixing tea leaves into it. The spoon made soft, repeated clinking sounds against the side of the cup.

“Excuse me, Zuko, but what are you doing?” Ikoru asked.

“Making tea,” Zuko said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, and as if he didn’t care at all that the general was addressing him on a first name basis.

“…Don’t you have people to do that for you?” Ikoru tried.

“I guess I do,” Zuko shrugged, still mixing. “I’m just making tea.”

“The sound is distracting me, slightly,” Ikoru said.

“Oh,” Zuko said, looking down at his hands as if he hadn’t noticed. “I’m sorry.” He set the cup and spoon down, and folded his hands in his lap. General Ikoru tried not to express his confusion and surprise that the Fire Lord had apologized to _him._

Ikoru continued to describe his plan, and Zuko gently refuted him, somehow having an answer for every one of Ikoru’s points. He’d done his research, Ikoru was surprised to discover. Zuko believed that a show of force in the colonies, especially from the sea, could only serve to increase hostilities and violence against Fire Nation civilians, and—

“Excuse me, my sincerest apologies,” Ikoru interrupted, bowing from his sitting position. “…You’re still doing it, sir.”

“Huh,” Zuko said, looking down at his hands again, where he held the tea cup and was mixing its contents with the spoon. “I didn’t notice.”

“The sound is distracting,” Ikoru grunted. The repetitive clinking was starting to grate on his nerves.

“This cup is done, anyway,” Zuko said. He held it out to the general. “Would you like to drink it?”

“What?” Ikoru leaned away, prepared for one of Ozai’s classic traps. What would happen to him if he accepted the cup? Was it poisoned? He looked down. _Zuko_ certainly wasn’t drinking anything. “No thank you, your Highness.”

“Okay,” Zuko shrugged. He set it aside and immediately picked up a new cup, which he began heating. “Would you like to continue our discussion?”

“No thank you, sir,” Ikoru stood up and bowed again, more deeply than before. “I’ll direct my soldiers as you ordered. We can continue our discussion by messenger hawk, if issues arrive, which I doubt they will.” He was starting to see why so few generals had elected to visit Zuko in person here. Clearly, the boy was a master of manipulation and hiding his true intentions. Pretending to make tea that he wasn’t going to drink…General Iroh must have had a powerful influence on him. Zuko hadn’t stood up once, not when Ikoru came in, and not now that he was going to leave. How powerful _was_ Zuko? Ikoru had clearly underestimated him. He said his goodbyes and left the building as quickly as he could.

“Aikoyo?” Zuko said. She poked her head through his doorway. “I made a cup of tea. Do you want it?”

“Usoni called dibs on the first one today,” Aikoyo smiled. “I’ll take it to him. How was your meeting?”

“Fine,” Zuko shrugged. “Uneventful. I guess he needed to see me in person to understand that I _meant_ what I wrote him a week ago. Could you take a few of these scrolls? He wrote a few more letters I didn’t respond to yet, but now that he’s come here, I don’t need to answer them.”

“Of course,” Aikoyo said, collecting the scrolls. “Can I bring you anything else?”

“No thank you,” Zuko said. The flame beneath his cup was strong and steady. “I’m alright.”

“You really are,” Aikoyo smiled. She ruffled his hair with one hand, and he tolerated it, though he smoothed it back down with his fingers as soon as she stopped. She picked up the tea cup Zuko had already made. “I’ll take this to Usoni. I’ll be back for your next batch.”

“I’m making a lot of tea today, I think,” Zuko looked at the pile of letters he still needed to answer, and sighed.

“At least you do it very well,” Aikoyo bowed.

——————————————————————

Suki was still getting used to what it was like to be out of Boiling Rock again. She’d followed Mai and Ty Lee on tours of the city of Caldera, she’d spent hours with Sokka and Hakoda just talking, and Toph had showed her this great scam—Toph moved the rocks around under the cups and Suki would pretend to “win,” and they’d split whatever they earned from anyone who thought they could do “better than a girl” at guessing. It was fun, but it was…different, somehow, being out.

She ran through her exercises in the courtyard of the little apartment building where she, her friends, Zuko, and a full complement of Fire Nation guards and palace staff members (refugees, she’d been told) lived. It was good to stay in shape. She focused on executing one of the warm-up drills perfectly. She’d have to go into town soon and buy a fan, she was starting to feel almost naked without one.

She heard a sound behind her, a soft rattling of pebbles as somebody missed a step. With one fluid motion, she twirled, and pointed her fists at whoever had made the sound. Zuko, it turned out. He flinched and held his arm over his face. She relaxed when she saw it was just him, and dusted herself off. He was only using one crutch, she noticed, and the cast was gone.

“Hi, Zuko. How long were you watching me?” Suki asked.

“Um, not long,” Zuko said. “I heard something break and I came outside to see.”

Suki looked down at the decorative vase she’d accidentally smashed. She hadn’t expected the pillar holding it to be so unstable, it only took one kick to take it down.

“I couldn’t find anything else to practice on,” Suki said. “I didn’t mean to break anything. On Kyoshi Island we had punching bags for training, but I couldn’t find anything like that inside.”

“It’s no big deal,” Zuko said, sitting down. “There’s vases and stuff everywhere. There’s a whole palace full of trash just over there.” He pointed, and Suki looked. Just beyond the next hill, there was a lot of black landscape. Ash, she realized.

“What happened?” Suki asked.

“My sister,” Zuko shrugged. “She’s living by the sea, and I can’t go visit her until I’m off the crutches.”

“Why not?” Suki asked. She sat down next to him.

“Aikoyo thinks she might try to attack me again,” Zuko said. “I can’t really defend myself with firebending while I’m like this.” He tensed as he said it, sitting just a little bit more stiffly. _Come on, Zuko, you’re not REALLY telling her you’re weak right now, right? You burned down her island, you think she’s not going to attack you?_ he thought.

“Why not?” Suki asked. “You walked all over Boiling Rock, and you used fire on the war balloon engine.”

“A lot of power in firebending comes from the root,” Zuko said. “If I can’t do the proper stances, I’m no good in an _actual_ fight.”

“I see,” Suki said.

“Um, I meant to say thank you, for that,” Zuko said, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

“For what?” Suki asked.

“You noticed I was freaked out about the Coolers, and you didn’t attack me,” Zuko said.

“Of course I didn’t,” Suki said. “You were having a panic attack.”

“Yeah, but…” Zuko sighed and rubbed at his eyes. “Never mind. And I’m sorry about Kyoshi Island, I truly am.”

“You’ve apologized a hundred times,” Suki laughed. “I’m starting to think _you’re_ somehow more upset about it than me.”

“I used to think that was where I was going to end up,” Zuko said quietly. “I mean, that, or the Northern Water Tribe, or some other port town I’d attacked. It was a while ago, right after Aang and everyone came to the Fire Nation, and I was _sure_ they only took me out to exact revenge or something, but…I still can’t shake it. I mean, I know they’re my friends, they’d never do anything to hurt me, I just…I still have nightmares sometimes.”

“What were you doing before?” Suki asked. “You don’t have to tell me, but the you-that-I’m-friends-with is _very_ different than the you-that-burnt-down-my-village. Something happened?”

“Yeah,” Zuko said. “I was in prison.”

“I didn’t think there was anywhere more secure than the Boiling Rock,” Suki said. “I’m almost jealous someone thought I wasn’t a big enough threat to go there. Where were you?”

“Under the palace,” Zuko shrugged. “Secret prison. Don’t be jealous, it was a “family only” sort of place.”

“Wow, _hate_ to hear that,” Suki wheezed.

“I know it’s nothing like what you went through,” Zuko said, “but, um. If you ever want to talk about it…I know you’ve got Hakoda and Mai and Ty Lee, but…you know. I’d talk about that stuff too.”

“Hey, prison is prison, right?” Suki shrugged. “Even it it’s a secret underground family prison. Your dad hated both of us, so we’re cool. You can join the Prison Gang if you want.”

“Really?” Zuko said, blinking up at her. “You’ll teach me the handshake you guys do?”

“It’s not so much a handshake as a way of _communicating,_ ” Suki said solemnly. “The way you do it says _everything_ about how you’re feeling. Sure, I’ll teach you. You’ve got the cast off, can you stand?”

“Um, let me try,” Zuko said. He managed to use the crutch to get himself standing, then carefully shifted his weight so he was standing on both feet. “I don’t think I can stand on one foot, but how’s this?”

“Hmm,” Suki said, circling him. She looked at his posture, and the way he’d carefully avoided planting his feet. “Good enough to learn the handshake, but not _very_ good. What did the doctor say about physical therapy?

“Um, I don’t really like doctors,” Zuko said, turning red with embarrassment. “I’m working on it. Um, Usoni took off the cast, he’s one of the guards.”

“Can I teach you some exercises for your foot, first?” Suki asked. “I think they might help you recover faster. You’ve been off that leg for a long time, it’s gotten weak. I’ve seen it before.”

“When?” Zuko asked.

“One of the Warriors fell of the statue of Kyoshi one time,” Suki said. “She was climbing, and she got high enough to see the whole island, and then she fell off when she was coming back down.”

“Woah,” Zuko said. “Was she okay?”

“She was me,” Suki said, smiling. “I broke my foot, and I had to do physical therapy until I could start training again.”

“When you say that, “physical therapy,” Zuko said, holding up air quotes, “what does that mean?”

“I mean, I only remember the exercises I used, but you just kind of practice using your foot until it’s just as strong as the one that didn’t get broken,” Suki said. “I thought you said you broke your leg before, what did you do last time?”

“The last time, I was still in the underground prison, so there wasn’t exactly pressure to start walking on it,” Zuko said. “I kind of thought “physical therapy” was a euphemism for fixing your problems with violence, you know, like a handicap when you’re training?”

“No, what are you talking about?” Suki raised an eyebrow.

“Like when I was learning firebending and I’d have to hold ice cubes until I fixed my form, stuff like that,” Zuko shrugged. “I don’t know how other nations do it, but you know. You handicap your ability, you learn to work with the handicap, and then you get stronger.”

“That sounds a little bit like abuse, Zuko,” Suki said.

“Oh, no,” Zuko smiled. He pointed at his scar. “ _This_ is abuse. There was no reason for me to get _this.”_

“See, that’s _also_ abuse,” Suki said, “but you know that there isn’t ever a _good_ reason to hurt somebody, right?”

“I know,” Zuko said, hanging his head. “Again, I’m really, _really_ sorry about Kyoshi Island.”

“No, I mean there was never a good reason for a “teacher” to hurt _you,”_ Suki said. “There’s never a good reason to hurt somebody” includes you, buddy. That wasn’t how we did things in the Kyoshi Warriors.”

“Maybe things are just different in the Fire Nation,” Zuko shrugged.

“We’ll talk about that later,” Suki sighed. “Here, sit down again. Let me show you some basic exercises. If you practice them every day, you’ll be back to normal in no time.”

“Okay,” Zuko said. “And then the handshake you do with Mai, Ty Lee, and Hakoda?”

“Only if you invite me to first dinner with your prison guards,” Suki smiled.

“Done,” Zuko laughed.

——————————————————————

“What are you doing?” Toph asked.

“Picking up rocks with my toes and moving them,” Zuko grunted. He sat with his legs stretched out in front of him, leaning back on his hands. He was sweating with effort.

“That’s on me, I asked the wrong question,” Toph said, sitting next to him. “I can _feel_ what you’re doing. _Why_ are you picking up rocks with your toes and moving them?”

“Suki said to,” Zuko said. He squeezed his eyes shut with the effort of grabbing the next pebble. He’d been out there so long, he was starting to shake. “Physical therapy. Getting stronger. _Ow…_ ” He felt a sharp pain under his foot, almost like he’d pulled something. He picked up his foot and massaged it, just like Suki had shown him how.

“Are you okay?” Toph asked.

“I’m training,” Zuko said, still massaging. “The sooner I can walk and jump and everything normally, the sooner I can go see Azula.”

“Okay, Sparky,” Toph held up her hands, “but just so you know, you’ve been out here a long time.”

“Only 78 degrees,” Zuko said, checking the position of the sun. “That’s, um…an hour and 20 minutes in Earth Kingdom time.”

“So you’re just gonna keep going? You’re not going to take a break?” Toph asked.

“This _is_ a break,” Zuko said, still massaging. The pain wasn’t going away. “And earlier, I was crunching up fabric. And I did stretches before I started, too. I haven’t been moving rocks for 78 degrees _straight_.”

“You’re just gonna hurt yourself,” Toph sighed, “if you haven’t already.”

“Training is supposed to hurt,” Zuko said, confused.

“This kind is supposed to make you _stop_ hurting, remember?” Toph said. “Come on. Let’s get you a snack.”

Zuko thought about this. He _had_ been out here a while. And he could always keep training later, maybe between second and third dinner or before he went to bed. And he _was_ getting hungry. “Okay,” he decided, grabbing his crutches. “Did you decide what we’re going to do for our field trip after Sokka takes me shopping tomorrow?”

“I haven’t,” Toph said. “Do _you_ have any ideas? I want it to be _big!_ Something so cool that even _not_ hearing about it will make everyone else jealous.”

“Maybe we should find my uncle and rescue him,” Zuko said, managing to stand up and leaning on his crutch for support. “That would be…that would be big. Bigger than anything else I’ve done.”

“That reminds me,” Toph said. “I mean, it’s not a field trip, but I was thinking about extending the search for Iroh even further. Once you can visit Azula without getting burnt, we can use _that_ palace as a base and search the western side of the Fire Nation, too.”

“What, you think maybe my uncle went on a trip and didn’t notice what happened?” Zuko snapped. He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.”

“It’s okay,” Toph said. “He’s a nice guy. I miss him too.”

“You and me, we’re the only ones who say “he is,” in present tense,” Zuko said. “Everyone else thinks he’s already dead.”

“We haven’t found a body,” Toph said. “It’s just…hard to believe, that he’d really be _gone._ ”

“I’ll try to think of something else for a field trip,” Zuko said. “Actually, I’m not hungry, I think I’m gonna go take a nap.”

“Okay,” Toph said. She hugged him around the waist. “See you later, Sparky.”

“Bye,” Zuko said, disappearing into his room. Toph waited long enough to be sure he wasn’t going to keep drilling his physical therapy exercises to the point of exhaustion, and when he laid down to nap, she left. She was going to have to find something _really_ good for their field trip. And she was going with him when he visited Azula, whether he liked it or not. He just didn’t know it yet.

——————————————————————

That evening, after a long day of shenanigans, Aang, Katara, Sokka, and Toph walked to the cafeteria together.

“I can’t _believe_ you, Aang! You _knew_ how important this was to me!” Sokka fumed.

“I’m sorry, Sokka,” Aang said. “I didn’t know it was going to take so long.”

“How long can it _possibly_ take to have a tea ceremony?” Sokka asked. “It’s just hot leaf juice!

“Oh, Sokka,” Katara rolled her eyes.

“For all of your talk about how good you are at pretending to be rich, you have _no_ manners,” Toph shook her head.

“First dinner can’t have started more than a few minutes ago,” Aang said. “We’re just a little late.”

“A little late?” Sokka scoffed. “What if all the food’s gone? Wait, do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Katara asked.

“It sounds like a fight,” Sokka said. “If they’re having a food fight without us, Aang, I _swear—“_

“Something’s wrong,” Toph said, sliding her foot across the ground. “Let’s go!” She took off running down the hall, and the others followed her.

——————————————————————

“What happened?” Aang gasped, looking out at the dining room. The floor was littered with people, some of them breathing and mumbling softly, others bleeding out. He recognized some of the guards, including Aikoyo, alive but splayed out on the floor. Zuko and Suki were also on the floor, holding each other and crying. In the center of the room, Mai and Ty Lee stood back to back, weapons (and chi-blocking fingers) held high.

“That’s the last of them, I think,” Mai said, relaxing just slightly as she cleaned blood off of her knife. “Ty Lee, do you see any more?”

“Just that one,” Ty Lee pointed, and looking over, Aang realized that it wasn’t a guard, it was someone in a different uniform, and he didn’t recognize them. There were many people wearing the different uniform and red headbands scattered throughout the room, most of them bloody and many of them not breathing. “You pinned him into the wall. He’s the only one of them still conscious.”

“What happened here?” Katara shuddered.

“What happened to first dinner?” Sokka stared.

“Why am I smelling blood?” Toph asked.

“I miss my dad,” Zuko cried, still on the floor. “I know he hates me, but I still miss him.”

“Let it out,” Suki said, also crying. She continued to hug Zuko, both of them still on the floor. They didn’t _look_ injured. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Zuko sobbed.

“Power to the Fire Nation!” the man in the weird uniform yelled, struggling to un-pin himself from the wall.

“What,” Katara stepped firmly into the scene of the carnage, “happened.”

——————————————————————

Earlier that evening, Mai and Ty Lee were a few minutes late to first dinner, as they’d been out for a walk together and lost track of time. When they arrived, Zuko and Suki had already gotten their food, and were sitting together at one of the tables. Mai and Ty Lee went to join them, and when Zuko drank his water, he made a weird face.

“What’s wrong?” Aikoyo asked.

“Tastes funny,” Zuko grimaced. “Kind of like cactus juice.”

“Is that what it is?” Suki smacked her lips thoughtfully. “You’re right, it _does_ taste kind of weird.”

Across the room, one of the palace staff collapsed. Aikoyo stood up to investigate, and she fell over too. The dining hall got louder as more people started to drop, and others started yelling in the confusion.

“Get down,” Mai said, grabbing Zuko’s shoulder. “Ty Lee, can you lock the door?”

“I’m on it.” Ty Lee bounced away as Mai shoved Zuko and Suki under the table. Not long after that, men in strange uniforms and red headbands crept in through the windows. They seemed surprised to see anyone still standing, and they attacked. Between the two of them, Mai and Ty Lee made short work of the attackers, who kept yelling things like “Power to the Fire Nation!” and “Free Fire Lord Ozai!” Unfortunately, they’d had no choice but to kill some of them before they could hurt anyone else. More than once, Mai had deflected someone from stabbing Zuko, who pretty much laid on the floor blinking until the fight was mostly over, and then he started crying, which made _Suki_ cry, and then the rest of Team Avatar came in. Mai finished her explanation as she collected her throwing knives from various walls/bodies throughout the room. Ty Lee occasionally interjected with helpful commentary, for example, Ty Lee had actually remembered what people had said, as opposed to Mai, who hadn’t paid attention to that.

“I _knew_ it!” Sokka said. “Didn’t I say I was worried we would get poisoned the _day_ we landed in the Fire Nation?”

“You were worried Zuko was going to poison you, not that he was going to get poisoned,” Katara corrected.

“S’not poison,” Zuko moaned from the floor, where Aang was helping him drink water. “Not dead. Poison kills you.”

“Cactus juice,” Sokka bowed his head. “Who knew it could be used for such nefarious purposes?”

“Don’t think it was cactus juice,” Zuko said.

“We went down fast,” Suki said. She was already sitting up, rubbing her head. “And it’s already wearing off, a little bit. Somebody drugged the water, but…ow ow ow,” she winced as she felt a bump on her head. “Probably not cactus juice,” she finished.

“This was deliberate,” Mai said. “This was an assassination attempt. It could be the first of many.”

“Good thing we ran late,” Ty Lee smiled at Mai, who turned her face slightly away from the group.

“I _said_ we should have been on time!” Sokka flailed his arms around.

“If you were on time, you probably would have been drugged too,” Mai pointed out. “But it would have been nice to have had help.”

“I’m never drinking anything ever again,” Zuko groaned. “Everything is bad.”

“Everything?” Toph asked.

“Everything,” Zuko insisted. “Tea, cactus juice, now _water…_ what’s left to drink that isn’t _bad?_ I’m going to learn to…whaddya call it…Sokka, what’s the thing plants do with the sun…with the…the pho…photonic…”

“Photosynthesis?” Sokka asked.

“That’s the bitch,” Zuko sighed, closing his eyes. “Just gonna drink sunlight.”

“…Plants still need water, you know that, right?” Sokka said.

“FUCK plants then,” Zuko said, and then he said several other things in quick succession.

“This is the one time,” Toph whispered solemnly, “that I wish I could write. I’m _never_ gonna remember all of that. Fuck.”

Across the room, Aikoyo groaned, and some other guards began waking up too.

“Is this…blood?” Usoni asked. He’d woken up underneath one of the attackers. Specifically, one of the dead ones.

“Okay, people, let’s get this cleaned up,” Sokka said, clapping his hands together as he took charge. “Mai and Ty Lee, you can rest if you want, or you can go find some water that hasn’t been drugged. Katara, Aang, you two are going to heal anyone who needs it. Toph, you take care of still-alive attacking-people, I’ll start moving the casualties outside. Remember, the sooner we get this sorted out, the sooner we can have second dinner.”

“Food? That’s all you ever think about, Sokka,” Katara glared.

“Interrogating assassins is easier on a full stomach, sue me,” Sokka shrugged. He waited until Aang had moved off, before whispering. “Hey, Katara? I don’t think Aang has seen something like this before. When he was fighting Ozai, that was just the two of them, he wasn’t around for much of the aftermath. This room is full of bodies. Could you make sure he’s okay?”

“Oh, Sokka,” Katara said, hugging him. “I’m glad you’re the one who makes plans. You’re really sweet, sometimes.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sokka hugged back. “Let’s work on waking the guards so we can have some help.”

——————————————————————

The next morning, Zuko found Toph in his room when he woke up.

“How ya doing today, Sparky?" Toph asked.

“Urk,” Zuko groaned, facedown in his mattress. “Too sick to answer letters.”

“I’d offer to help, but I can’t read,” Toph shrugged.

“Thanks,” Zuko sighed. “I should really get up and start working. Or exercising my foot, or something.”

“There’s no rush,” Toph said. “After you get your checkup, you can— _woah,_ okay, what just happened? Your heartbeat went _crazy_ when I said that.”

“What’s wrong?” Katara entered the room. “Are you having more side effects from the drug?”

“No,” Zuko said, relaxing again. “Sorry, Katara. Toph said I was getting a checkup, I just—“

“—you really don’t like doctors, I know,” Katara said. “Out of curiosity, what do you think _I_ am?”

“A healer? A friend? I don’t know, not a _doctor,_ ” Zuko said, waving one of his hands. “You’re nice.”

“Healers and doctors are the same thing,” Toph said. “You gotta get over your fear of doctors sometime.”

“They’re _not_ the same thing, magic water is nice, but stuff like _poultices_ and medicine isn’t,” Zuko said, sitting up. “And I’m not _scared_ of doctors, I don’t think. I just don’t like them.”

“Yep, you totally did your heartbeat fear-response for no reason, not because you’re _scared,_ Sparky,” Toph said.

“Maybe it’s _caution,_ did you ever think about _that?_ ” Zuko snapped.

“How are you supposed to get medical help if you don’t talk to doctors?” Toph asked. “I know you don’t trust easily, but this is coming from a fellow sheltered rich-kid…it’s okay to accept help from people, you don’t have to prove yourself by suffering all the time.”

Katara pulled a string of water from her pouch and ran it up and down Zuko’s body, scanning. “It looks like you’re pretty much okay. Does your foot still hurt?”

“A little,” Zuko admitted.

“Here,” Katara said, and the water ball massaged under the ball of his foot, gentle and tingly. “How’s that?”

“Really good,” Zuko said, flexing his toes. “It almost doesn’t hurt at all, now.”

“Let me know if it acts up again today, but you can probably try exercising with it,” Katara said. “You’re not having any other side effects from the drug?”

“No,” Zuko shook his head. “Yesterday, Mai told me a little bit of what she found out about the assassins. They call themselves New Ozai, her dad tried to recruit her brother, stuff like that. Did anyone find out anything else?”

“Working on it,” Katara said. “Mai and Ty Lee did much more damage to them than they did to us, so it’s taking a little while for everyone to get healed enough to be interrogated.”

“That sounds like Mai,” Zuko laughed. “She’s got no patience for fighting, she’d rather win and be done with it. And she’s good enough to get her way.”

“Come on, if you’re done getting healed, you gotta train,” Toph said, standing up. She grabbed Zuko’s arm and pulled on him. “We gotta be ready to face Azula, remember?”

“Um, _we?_ ” Zuko asked.

“Yep,” Toph said. “I’m coming too, so I’m gonna train too.”

“You’re _not_ coming,” Zuko said, firmly. “Aikoyo said that Foman said that Azula would be more comfortable and less lightning-y if I came _alone._ ”

“And you will go alone, technically,” Toph said. “You’re bringing me along in the war balloon, you’ll drop me off in the town, I’ll explore and meet up with you when you’re done. If she tries to kill you, I’ll feel it, and I’ll bust in and save you. And don’t bother arguing, because I’m coming, whether you like it or not.”

Zuko had opened his mouth in protest, but promptly closed it again. “Okay. Then I guess the next step is training against a firebender, so we can practice blocking—“ Zuko was interrupted by the loud _bang_ of his door slamming open. In the doorframe stood Sokka, holding out a pouch of gold in each hand.

“Nope, Lord Jerkbender!” Sokka grinned. “ _Your_ next step is going on a _field trip,_ with _me.”_

“Is now really the best time to go shopping?” Zuko groaned. “I almost got assassinated _yesterday.”_

“Then it’s the _perfect_ time,” Sokka said, “because I know of no better way to cheer someone up than by shopping. Everyone else out! Zuko and I need to prepare for the _greatest field trip of all time!”_

——————————————————————

“I don’t understand,” Zuko furrowed his brow. “Explain it again.”

“What’s not to understand?” Sokka sighed. “There’s nothing to explain? Just put down the soap and pick out something you _want._ ”

“We need soap,” Zuko said, confused. “How else are we supposed to wash our hands?”

“I wouldn’t be saying “put it down” if you’d picked some kind of _fancy_ soap, with a nice smell or fun shape,” Sokka said. “We’re _shopping,_ you can’t just buy stuff you _need!_ This isn’t an errand, it’s a _shopping trip.”_

“Are you saying we _don’t_ need soap, because I know for a _fact_ that the kitchen is _not_ stocked—“

“It’s not even for _your_ bathroom? You have so much to learn, my young pupil,” Sokka sighed. “Look, will you feel better if _I_ promise to buy soap, and food, and whatever other stuff you’ve got there? What do you have in that bag?”

“A patch-kit for fixing clothes, a replacement tea cup for the one I broke the other day, blank paper—“

“Okay, that is _boring_ stuff,” Sokka sighed. “Give me that bag. I’ll buy that stuff. Is there anything else, or can we get to shopping now?”

“Um,” Zuko looked uncomfortable. “Aren’t you going to buy that…thing?”

Sokka looked down. He was holding a decorative golden statue of a dragon, with a string of pearls wrapped around its claws. He set it down on the ground and took Zuko’s bag away from him. “This is nothing. What do _you_ want to buy? Something for _you,_ not for an errand or because you need it.”

“Um, aren’t you going to put that back?” Zuko asked.

“I forgot where I found it,” Sokka shrugged. “But we’re not taking it out of the store, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Great,” Zuko sighed. Sokka dragged Zuko to the counter, and paid for the soap, patch-kit, tea cup, and blank scrolls. He then dragged Zuko outside the store into the larger market area. People in Fire Nation red bustled back and forth, a crowd that Sokka and Zuko managed to get lost in despite their distinctive appearances. Zuko was tucked in his cloak, and pulled it all the way over his head, even in the heat. With streamers and lamps decorating the streets, and loud vendors yelling about their wares, Sokka had almost mistaken it for a festival, but Zuko had assured him it was like this most of the time in the Caldera market. Sokka had tasted every sample he could find, and he’d found _several_ things he wouldn’t mind taking home, but so far, Zuko had only managed to show interest in his bag of necessities and several other things (a pot, socks, etc.) that Sokka had suspected he didn’t really want.

“Look, Zuko! This is a whole stand _just_ dedicated to different varieties of Fire Nation cheese! Isn’t that cool?” Sokka tried.

“I guess so,” Zuko shrugged.

“We’ll find something else,” Sokka rubbed his chin. “Hmm. Maybe we can…You’re a theater kid, is there anywhere that sells anything like that? Maybe some merch from Spirits in the Dark?”

“Over there,” Zuko didn’t even look as he pointed at the shop. “They haven’t had anything new since before I was banished, I’ve looked.”

“But we’re on the right track!” Sokka perked up. “Come on, Zuko. Help me out. Really _think._ What do you want, for _you,_ that you’ve never bought for yourself? And I _know_ there must be something.”

“I already told you, there’s nothing,” Zuko sighed. He tucked even further into his hood. “And we already used up the budget, anyway.”

“No we didn’t,” Sokka said, looking down at the second bag of gold, so far untouched.

“Yes we did,” Zuko said. “I already used my portion. You can’t spend your money on something for me.”

“This isn’t mine,” Sokka said. “I took it out of your dad’s treasury. If anything, this is _your_ money.”

“Then I say we’re done buying stuff for today, we’ve already got everything we need,” Zuko announced.

“We’re not done! What could you possibly be saving up for?” Sokka groaned.

“I don’t know,” Zuko said. “But whatever we save now, we can use for next month’s—“

“You’re still thinking like you’re on your ship,” Sokka said. “You can’t live your whole life like you’re trying to make ends meet on the Wacko.”

“It was the Wani,” Zuko said.

“Try this for me, okay?” Sokka said. “Close your eyes.”

“We’re in the middle of the street,” Zuko pointed out.

“I’ll protect you,” Sokka said, putting his hands on Zuko’s shoulders. “I’m trying to teach you a _new_ meditation exercise, and I’m not even making you call me Sifu.”

Zuko squeezed his eyes shut.

“Listen to all the people around. Feel your feet on the ground, or whatever,” Sokka said.

“Great meditation,” Zuko said. “Did you come up with it yourself?”

“Shhh, shh shh,” Sokka said, putting his finger on Zuko’s lips. “Quiet. Now I want you to picture you’re in your happy place. You’re comfortable, and safe, and well rested.”

Zuko thought for a few seconds. The first thing that came to mind was how he’d actually really liked running the tea shop with his uncle. There had been moments when it was easy to forget that they were fugitives, and just appreciate the warmth of the fresh tea and Iroh’s inescapable (but in a good way) hugs. Uncle always said that tea was an art, and Zuko had never really believed him. Most tea was just hot leaf juice, easy to choke down, not very tasty. There was one blend Zuko had kind of liked, though. Well, it was okay. He’d never admit to liking it, especially not to customers, because then they’d want to try it, and then the shop would run out. It was some kind of a blend, he couldn’t remember what was in it, but he remembered what it smelled like. Kind of spicy, but also kind of flowery. Drinking it was like sitting in the courtyard near the turtleduck pond, it was just so cozy and warm. He didn’t have anything like it back at the apartment building. He wondered if it was just going to taste like sleeping drugs as soon as he found it again, though. He opened his eyes.

“Don’t laugh,” Zuko said.

“I promise,” Sokka said. “Shopping is the most serious and sacred art known to man. I once purchased a messenger hawk and named it Hawky, and I stand by that decision. I promise, I will _not_ laugh.”

“There’s this one blend of tea,” Zuko blushed. “I don’t remember what it’s called. I’d know it if I smelled it, though.”

“I thought you hated tea,” Sokka raised an eyebrow.

“I said not to laugh,” Zuko turned even redder.

“I’m not laughing,” Sokka held up his hands in surrender. “Let’s go find your tea blend.”

——————————————————————

“Is this it?” Sokka asked, holding up another cup. Behind him stood the starting-to-get-annoyed shopkeeper. This was the eighth tea that hadn’t turned out to be right, but Sokka had yelled a lot, about how _dare_ they turn away the Fire Lord, and some other stuff that embarrassed Zuko even further. Zuko took the tea in his hands and sniffed, inhaling deeply.

“It’s the right spice, but not the right flower,” Zuko said. “What’s in this one?”

“Another!” Sokka yelled, grabbing more jars of leaves from the shelves. “We’ll get it right!”

“Perhaps you should try a different tea shop,” the shopkeeper glared. “A new place opened up near your seaside palace, sir. They’re far enough away; I’m sure they have different blends that might be more to your liking. It’s said the man who runs it came all the way from Ba Sing Se.”

“The tea I remember was from Ba Sing Se,” Zuko said, rubbing his forehead. “Sokka, maybe we should give up, I’ll try the other tea shop when I go visit Azula.”

“No way,” Sokka said. “If the only thing you want is tea, we’re _getting you that tea._ What was in the last one?”

“The spice you’re referring to in the last cup was Dragon’s Breath, it only grows in Caldera,” the shopkeeper said. “The flowery taste was—“

“Wrong flower anyway, doesn’t matter,” Sokka said, throwing a bunch of jars onto Zuko’s table. “We’ll mix _all_ of these if we have to!”

“This one,” Zuko said, pointing to a jar with pink blossoms. “It looks about right.”

Zuko mixed the tea himself. Sokka helped by grinding up the petals in a bowl. The shopkeeper crossed his arms and glared at them, coughing every few minutes as a reminder to hurry up. He was quickly silenced when he saw Zuko heating the water in his bare hand, and when Sokka gave him a look that could freeze a polar otter-bear.

Zuko sipped it, and gagged just a little bit. “It’s not quite right. I can’t figure it out.”

“Try this,” the shopkeeper sighed, passing over a little vial of salts. “No one ever uses the Snap Flowers without it.”

Zuko mixed in the salts, and as he did, the tea started to smell just right. He closed his eyes, and took a sip. It tasted perfect, just like he remembered it. It didn’t even taste a little bit like sleeping drugs, it just tasted like…tea. It was really delicious.

“Zuko, are you…crying?” Sokka asked.

“No,” Zuko sniffed.

“It’s okay, buddy, let it out,” Sokka hugged him. He looked up at the shopkeeper. “We’re buying your whole supply.”

“Sir, I had no idea—“ the shopkeeper stuttered, suddenly dropping his angry mood.

“Price is no object,” Sokka smiled. “We’re treating ourselves today.”

“I’ll mix more right away,” the shopkeeper bowed, retreating into the back room.

“Sokka, I miss him so much,” Zuko said, hugging him. “We’ve got to find Iroh. Even if he’s dead… I have to know, I can’t take it anymore.”

“There, there,” Sokka said. “It’ll be okay.”

“Thanks for taking me shopping, Sokka,” Zuko sniffed, his face still buried in Sokka’s shoulder.

“Anytime, Zuko,” Sokka smiled. “Anytime.”

——————————————————————

The next day found Zuko in the apartment building’s courtyard with Aang.

“I don’t know, Zuko,” Aang scratched the back of his neck nervously.

“It’s a great idea,” Zuko said. “If _I_ was the one training _you,_ I’d sneak up on you and attack you, and see what you did.”

“I’d think you were trying to capture me,” Aang said. “You’d really do that?”

“Sure,” Zuko shrugged. “A sneak attack is a great way to train, you make sure you’re ready for anything.”

“If we’re gonna spar, let’s just spar. I’m not gonna sneak up on you and start firebending at you,” Aang said. “Aikoyo would kill me!”

“She would,” Zuko laughed. “Okay. Will you still spar with me?”

“Sure,” Aang said. “If you’re sure you don’t want to go up against one of the guards first.”

“I’m sure,” Zuko braced his feet in an opening stance. “I’ve been training the way Suki showed me, I think I’ve got full range of motion in my foot again. I _need_ to practice fighting again if I want to be ready to visit Azula. She won’t hold back, I hope you won’t either.”

“Well, I’ll go easy on you, you’re still healing,” Aang said, rolling up his sleeves.

“Okay,” Zuko rolled his eyes and raised his hands. “I’ll go easy on _you._ I didn’t bring my dao blades today.”

“I’ve beaten you before,” Aang pointed out. “Do you want me to use all my bending abilities, or just fire?”

“All of them,” Zuko smirked. “You really think you can take me?”

“Yeah, of course I do,” Aang said, launching himself into the air. He whipped up an air-scooter and zipped around behind Zuko, who maintained his stance and turned just slightly to keep facing Aang.

Aang kicked fire with both feet at Zuko, who sidestepped and bent the flame blast away from him. Zuko responded by punching fireballs into the air, and Aang swooped out of the way. Aang pulled water out of the fountain, and forced it into ice around Zuko’s chest. Zuko blew fire out of his mouth, and burst out of the trap. He then leapt into the air, and grabbed Aang’s ankle. Aang barely managed to roll with the movement as Zuko slammed him into the ground. Aang looked up at Zuko’s fist, which was not on fire, but pointed directly at hiss face. Zuko stepped back, and helped Aang up.

“Huh,” Aang said, rubbing his shoulder. “You’ve never done _that_ before.”

“I’m not trying to capture you, I’m trying to _win,_ ” Zuko said. “Still gonna go easy on me?”

“Not anymore,” Aang smiled. “Let’s go again!”

——————————————————————

Ten falls later, Aang was starting to accept that Zuko was back to full health.

“You’re ready,” Aang gasped, sitting up. “I need water.”

“Just a few more times,” Zuko said nervously. “I need to be sure.”

“Azula’s not going to attack you,” Sokka said. “She didn’t when we threw her off the Fire throne, you just got in the way of her attack on _me_.”

“I should train a little bit more, just in case,” Zuko said. “I could get my dao blades and fight someone else. Sokka, what was the thing you said about sword-bending?”

“Hey, don’t drag me into this,” Sokka held up both hands in surrender. “I was just here for the last few rounds, and based on what I saw, I know I don’t need to take a beating right now. My pride couldn’t handle it.”

“Oh, Sokka,” Suki sighed. “Afraid?”

“No way!” Sokka jumped. “I’ll fight him!”

“I’m a little above your level, Sokka. I was asking if you could explain what sword-bending is, so I could fight Suki,” Zuko said.

“Okay, now I _have_ to fight him,” Sokka grumbled.

“I won’t go easy on you,” Suki said, standing up. “You sure?”

“Yep,” Zuko said. “If you think you can take me.”

“I don’t know, you’ve already beaten the Avatar,” Suki smiled. “You think _I’m_ going to give you a fight?”

“Let’s find out,” Zuko said, blasting fire at her.

Suki backflipped out of the way, drawing her fans as she escaped the fire. She threw one at Zuko, and he dodged so it only hit him in the ear. He jumped, and used both hands to fire another blast. She slipped underneath, and ran back in close. He dropped to his hands and swirled in a circle, fire spiraling around him in a wave. She danced over the flames, and knocked him off balance.

“Do you think they’ll hurt each other?” Aang asked. Sokka was staring, open mouthed, at the fight. “Sokka? Are you listening to me?”

“I’m gonna need to lie down for a little while,” Sokka flushed brilliant red, never taking his eyes off the fight.

Zuko threw fire at Suki’s face, and she grabbed his wrist with the fan. He kicked her feet out from underneath her, and shot a breath of fire towards her. She dodged, directly into a wall of earth that grabbed her around the middle.

“Hey!” Suki struggled. “What gives?”

Zuko paused, trying to asses what had happened, and as quick as a flash, another wave of earth grabbed him and lifted him off the ground. “Let me go!” Zuko kicked.

“Sure, Sparky!” Toph laughed. “Only when you agree to stop fighting everyone.”

“I need to train,” Zuko grumbled, going limp in the rocky grip.

“You’re as ready as you’re gonna get,” Toph said. “If you don’t want to see Azula, you can just say so.”

“I want to go see her,” Zuko said. “I’m just…you know. What if she _does_ attack me?”

“Isn’t that why we were training?” Aang asked.

“Yeah, but…I don’t _want_ her to fight me,” Zuko flushed. “I want…I don’t know what I want. I want her to be happy to see me, and I want to be sure she won’t attack everyone so she can come back here. I miss her. She’s my sister, I want us to be close the way we used to be, like when we were really little.”

“Got it,” Toph said, releasing Suki and Zuko. “So can you come to terms with the fact that we don’t know what’s waiting for us when we go see her? Because no amount of waiting or training is going to change that.”

“Wait, you’re going too?” Suki said.

“I didn’t really get a choice about that,” Zuko rubbed his shoulder, massaging his most recent bump. “Toph invited herself. She’s just going to wait in town while I go see Azula. You’re right, Toph. We’ll leave tomorrow, at sunrise.”

“Hell yeah!” Toph held up her hand for a high five. Zuko reluctantly provided one.

“Maybe we should come, too,” Aang said. “There’s nothing Team Avatar can’t do together!”

“I’ll be fine by myself,” Zuko said. “I don’t know what I’m so worked up about. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Maybe you should see a doctor first, just to be _sure_ your foot is all better,” Suki said.

“No, I hate doctors,” Zuko shrugged the suggestion off. “I just fought you, and I beat Aang in a fair fight, too. My leg is fine. We leave tomorrow.”

“I’ll pack my bag,” Toph smiled.

——————————————————————

“From your message, we expected you to arrive earlier today,” Foman bowed.

“I was held up,” Zuko said. Toph had insisted on waiting to leave until Zuko had time to meditate. He’d been antsy, but the practice _had_ helped. He made the tea blend he’d bought with Sokka, and gave some to Toph too. She recognized it from when she’d once spent some time with Iroh. He felt much better after he’d finished the cup, but they _did_ run late. He dropped Toph off near town (he hadn’t wanted to land the war balloon in the middle of town, he thought it would draw too much attention) and then he arrived at the seaside palace. The courtyard of the so-far-not-destroyed palace was full of people in Earth Kingdom green. Aang _had_ said the therapists were from the Earth Kingdom, Zuko remembered.

“It is an honor to meet you in person, Lord Zuko,” Foman said. “I should give you some advice about your sister before you go in to see her, however.”

“Is she okay?” Zuko asked.

“Of course, of course,” Foman bowed. “But she suffers from delusions. We have found it best, during her treatment, to allow her to believe what she will, even to support it. The safety she finds in that reality makes her more comfortable, more willing to talk.”

“What do you even do here?” Zuko said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. He still wasn’t quite sure he trusted “therapy,” despite Aang’s obvious belief in it.

“We talk to her,” Foman smiled. “Talking can be very therapeutic.”

“If you say so,” Zuko sighed.

“She believes that we are not therapists, but agents of what she calls “the Dai Li.” We have determined that this was a shadow group that was once loyal to her, though we don’t know their current whereabouts. She imagines that she is in charge of a fleet of agents, through whom she exerts control over Fire Nation events—we call her “Fire Lord” at her own request.”

“I see,” Zuko said. He was starting to get a bad taste in his mouth about all this.

“I assure you,” Foman said, “that this delusion is only helping her at this juncture. She takes comfort in imagining control over her surroundings, and it’s helped her to talk about some of her fears. As we continue to work with her, the delusions will be stripped away, and she will begin to understand the truth about her life. We hope that we can help her learn to trust, and improve her relationships with her peers, including yourself, and the two she calls Mai and Ty Lee.”

“Our friends,” Zuko said. “…Talking about stuff really makes it easier for her to learn to trust people?”

  
“You’d be surprised,” Foman said. “Perhaps we can assist you, too.”

“I’d just like to see her, to start,” Zuko said. “Can I?”

“Right away,” Foman bowed. “Feel no obligation to continue to support her fantasies, as we do. She cares deeply for you. Your actions will not harm her.”

“Okay,” Zuko said, taking a deep breath. “Take me to her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: I'm not gonna post any more chapters that end in cliffhangers, that's a cheap way people draw readers, and I don't need to employ it  
> Also me: ...From the way the plot is going, I can either post a cliffhanger now, or keep writing and probably end up posting a different cliffhanger in a week  
> Me: ...  
> Me: *hits the upload button*


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...okay, so we got into a tough situation. I mean for me, the author, not for the characters (they were obviously already in a tough situation). so starting this chapter, all-italics means its either taking place in the past OR a dream sequence, but ill try to make it clear which one it is.

“Hey, Azula,” Zuko’s voice said, and wasn’t _that_ interesting? Assuming he was really there, that is. She’d imagined this moment over and over again, the way he’d crawl back to her once he realized the Avatar was no more his friend than Father had been, and Zuko would desperately beg for her forgiveness of his _terrible_ betrayal. She would forgive him, of course, especially if he bowed to her the way a Fire Lord deserved. She’d ride back to the _real_ palace raining horrible fire over everything, and maybe they’d have adventures together and destroy the Earth Kingdom and Water Tribes too, just for fun. No more nations, no more wars, no more _anything._ She was looking forward to finding out what she would do without any more standards to measure herself by. Unfortunately, this didn’t feel like one of those daydreams.

“Hi, Zuko,” Azula said, and she looked up at her brother, who was _not_ wearing the Fire Lord’s crown, was _not_ crying ugly tears about seeing her again, and was _not_ as thin as he’d been when she’d last seen him. He wasn’t on crutches, either.

“Um. How are you feeling?” Zuko asked, standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“ _That’s_ how you want to start this?” Azula asked. “Take a wild guess.”

“Is everything okay with the therapists? I _knew_ there might be a problem, do you need me to move you home?” Zuko looked worried.

“I’m waiting for an _apology,_ Zuzu,” Azula raised an eyebrow.

“I’m sorry I left you here with strangers. I was still unconscious when you got moved here, and I wanted to visit sooner, but my leg was still broken. Are you hurt?” Zuko rushed over to her, and reached out a hand as if he was going to touch her. At the last second, he pulled away, and settled for looking at her, up and down, like he _was_ concerned if she was injured.

“I’m hardly with strangers, Zuko. Are you really not going to apologize for _betraying_ me?” Azula asked, crossing her arms.

“…I’m not going to apologize for betraying you,” Zuko said, looking away. “I’m not sorry. You were hurting people, and you wouldn’t have stopped. I would do it again.”

“Hmm.” It was now Azula’s turn to look over Zuko. The famine-victim cut of his cheeks had vanished, he was walking and moving around normally, he was in clean clothes and he’d let his hair grow a little bit longer. All evidence seemed to indicate that the Avatar had not yet grown tired of tolerating her brother—not _yet,_ at least. And he was still _Zuko,_ in every way. Same naivety about the world, same weird desire to care for her (as if he’d ever enough power to do that), same inability to have a normal conversation. She’d really been away too long.

“Are you really doing okay, Azula?” Zuko looked at her with his big kitten-puppy eyes.

“I’m fine,” Azula snapped. “I’m sure Foman has briefed you. Long Feng may not be in charge of the Dai Li anymore, but they still answer to me. I have everything I’d want here. They bring in stuff to burn, so I don’t have an _incident_ and burn down another one of Father’s houses _._ It’s nice living here. You’d like it.” _If you stayed,_ she didn’t add.

“Sure, Azula,” Zuko said. He sat down on the couch next to her. He sounded like he didn’t believe her, like he thought she was making it up.

“Should I call him in and have him prove his loyalty?” Azula asked.

“I believe he’d do what you say,” Zuko shrugged.

This was her one chance to get through to him. It might not be quite like she’d hoped it would be, but if she messed this up, he might never come back. “Zuko, listen to me. I don’t need the Dai Li. I don’t need anyone else, I never have. You don’t either. Let’s go, just the two of us, anywhere in the world. We’ll do whatever we want, we’ll destroy anyone who gets in our way, we don’t _need_ to be Fire Nation royalty or Ozai’s kids, we can just be Azula and Zuko, running the world.”

“I don’t _want_ to run the world,” Zuko shrugged. “It doesn’t really sound like fun. I can barely keep the Fire Nation from collapsing as it is.”

“Fine,” Azula said. “We won’t run anything, we’ll just run around. The Dai Li couldn’t find Uncle, but we’ll find him ourselves. We’ll find _mom,_ she’s still alive somewhere, I _know_ it. We could break into Earth Kingdom prison and punch dad, or we can break into Boiling Rock for Mai and Ty Lee. I don’t even _care_ what we do, don’t you see that nothing _matters?_ Just do _something_ with me.”

“Um, I already let Mai and Ty Lee out…I guess I could stay here and look into therapy,” Zuko mumbled.

“Is there really no getting through to you?” Azula grimaced. “You’ve given your loyalty away to the Avatar, and now you’re fresh out? None left for me?”

“That’s not how it is,” Zuko started.

“Maybe I don’t _care_ how it is,” Azula lashed out. “Maybe you should get out of here.”

“I can leave if you want,” Zuko said. “I’m staying in town a few days before I go back to the city. I can come back tomorrow.”

“Why would you bother?” Azula spat.

“I love you, Azula. I meant it when I said we’d have each others’ backs,” Zuko said. He leaned in closer and hugged her. She allowed it to happen, and didn’t interrupt the hug to call for Foman to drag Zuko out. She _would_ ask Foman to make Zuko reconsider his decision to stay in town, though. If Zuko didn’t want her, she didn’t want him.

“I brought you this. I don’t know if you actually want it, but. Um. Here,” Zuko said. He reached into a pocket of his robes and pulled out a crown. No, it wasn’t quite a crown. That wasn’t the crown she’d worn as a princess for so long, it was a golden swoosh of lightning, with delicate netting. It was a beautiful hair piece, and clearly, it was for _her—_ this wasn’t a trapping of royalty passed down over ages, this was specially made with her in mind. She had to admit, she was curious how it would look on her. Shame she’d already smashed all the mirrors.

“I don’t want it,” Azula lied.

“Okay,” Zuko said. “Do you still want me to go?”

“…No,” Azula said, after a long time. “Stop talking, though. Just…sit here. For a little while.”

“Okay,” Zuko said, relaxing onto the couch. True to his word, he kept quiet. He just sat there, looking healthy and awake and _happy._ It was a good look for him.

“I love you too,” Azula said. “You understand me, but you don’t _understand._ Why won’t you agree to run away with me?”

Zuko smiled, and mimed sealing his lips.

“You can talk,” Azula huffed.

“I like it here,” Zuko shrugged. “Not _here,_ I mean…the Fire Nation. I like being here. And Aang and Katara and Toph and Sokka and everyone else…I like them, too.”

“You were always better at making friends than me,” Azula glared.

“It’s a work in progress. Want to practice with me?” Zuko asked. “You could come back to the apartment building, we’d—“

“You live in an apartment building?” Azula scoffed.

“You destroyed the palace,” Zuko pointed out.

“Not the parts where I wanted to live,” Azula said.

“The parts where anyone else would want to live,” Zuko said.

“I’d go back with you, but not so I could play second fiddle to your new _friends._ You should really reconsider traveling the world with me,” Azula sighed.

“I can’t,” Zuko said. “I don’t want to.”

“I can’t go back with you,” Azula said. “I’m not going to live in an apartment building and play nice with the Avatar…at least, not yet.”

“Therapy is a process, or so Aang says,” Zuko nodded. “Uncle would probably have something funny to say about it.”

“Oh Azula,” Azula grouched in her impression of Iroh, “It is the animal who learns to appreciate the beauty of nature who escapes his place in life.”

“That’s really good!” Zuko laughed, and it was genuine, too. Azula felt oddly proud. “What does that even mean?”

“I have no idea,” Azula laughed too.

——————————————————————

Zuko emerged from the seaside palace feeling happier than he’d felt in a long time. All of his fears that Azula would hate him had lifted away, and he felt like he could jump for joy. Foman walked alongside him as he followed the cobblestone path towards the palace wall, which would eventually take him into town.

“How was your visit, your Highness?” Foman asked.

“You don’t need to call me that, Zuko is fine,” Zuko shrugged.

“I admit I was curious as to why you’re not wearing the Fire Lord’s crown,” Foman said. “Have there been new developments in the Fire Nation succession that we’ve failed to notice in our little seaside retreat? Perhaps Lady Mai’s family has taken over your responsibilities.” Foman desperately hoped this wasn’t the case. If so, he was going to need to reevaluate the quality of his spies _and_ the quality of his plan.

“No, technically it’s still me giving orders, I guess, but I’m pretty sure everyone just does what they want, anyway,” Zuko sighed.

“If I may ask, Zuko, where are you going?” Foman made a discreet hand motion to catch the attention of the agents concealed in the trees. If Zuko went into town, he’d find Iroh, and that wouldn’t do anyone any good. He had to be kept at the palace.

“Into town,” Zuko said. “Someone told me there’s a tea shop here I should check out. You know, I’m pretty good at making tea myself.”

“How interesting,” Foman said through gritted teeth. “Would you perhaps care to give me a demonstration? We have everything you might need.”

“Sure, when I come back,” Zuko said. “But I need to find a place in town to stay overnight, anyway.”

“If you really wish to visit much longer, why not stay here?” Foman asked, smooth as anything. “We’d be happy to have you join us.”

“Thank you, but I’d be more comfortable somewhere less…” Zuko gestured at the grandeur of the palace. “…Less royal, I guess.” He paused, and took a moment to process what Foman had said. “Of course I’m staying, for at least a few days. I haven’t seen Azula in weeks, I’m not just going to leave.”

“Of course not,” Foman said. “Perhaps you would appreciate a guide to help you navigate the town?”

“No thank you,” Zuko said. “I’m sure I can manage by myself. I just want to explore a little bit before I meet back up with my friend.”

Foman ran some quick mental calculations. Zuko was quickly approaching the palace wall, past which point it would be much more difficult to subdue him without anyone noticing. However, _inside_ the palace wall, it was more likely Azula would notice her bother’s abduction. If Zuko knew someone in town, that _could_ be a minor setback. They’d have to hold off phase two until they could be sure who it was. But that would only be a problem if and when it became time to execute phase two. The only immediate issue was staging an appropriate accident to force the prince to stay at the palace. But that would be risky—perhaps the plan could wait until he came back tomorrow? No, because if Zuko went into town at all, he might find Iroh, and refuse to return. He had to be captured _now,_ and Foman would just have to hope he could handle any surprises that would arise from initiating phase one so quickly.

“Of course, sir. We’ll see you tomorrow,” Foman bowed, retreating away from Zuko back towards the palace. As Zuko got closer to the wall, Foman pulled an agent aside. “Trip him. It needs to look like an accident. Serious enough to prevent him from leaving.”

The agent nodded, and slipped away through the trees. Foman continued walking towards the palace, when he heard the slight _rumble_ of earthbending and a sharp yell. He allowed himself a small smile, pleased that his agents were so effective, before he put on the mask of “concerned therapist” again. He went back down the path, to where Zuko was now lying on the ground, holding his leg.

“Sir, are you all right?” Foman asked, kneeling to help Zuko up.

“My leg,” Zuko gasped. He squeezed his eyes shut with pain. “I must have tripped, I thought I’d healed enough to use it normally, but…” He shook his head a few times, clearly resisting the urge to scream or yell or cry.

“May I?” Foman asked, offering to remove Zuko’s boot. Zuko nodded, his face still screwed up with pain. Foman removed the boot (gently, of course) and assessed the damage. Already Zuko’s foot was starting to swell, and all signs indicated he’d broken a bone. Foman nodded at the agent who’d done the job. Excellent work. A truly masterful job. “It looks like you may have broken it, Zuko,” Foman said, setting the boot aside.

“Feels like it,” Zuko groaned. “I can’t believe it. I did all that training trying to get back to full strength…” He clenched his fists until the knuckles turned white, scrabbling just a little bit at the loose ground. Loose ground—a nice touch, exactly the kind of attention to detail Foman demanded from his agents.

“You must allow us to help you,” Foman said. “I feel entirely at fault—I _should_ have provided you with a guide. My sincerest apologies, sir. Can you walk? You must come back inside the palace, our doctor will examine you.”

“That’s okay, I don’t really like doctors,” Zuko said. At least, that’s what Foman _assumed_ he said, as Zuko was clearly more invested in trying not to cry than trying to talk.

“I assure you, our doctor is perfectly capable of treating you. You trust us to watch over your sister, don’t you?” Foman gestured towards the house, calling for assistance carrying Zuko. “You certainly can’t go into town like this.”

“Maybe…maybe someone could look at it,” Zuko said, gasping at the pain. He figured if Usoni had been there, Zuko wouldn’t have had any problem with Usoni looking at the injury, and Usoni was _basically_ a doctor, just one that he trusted. And Foman was right, he _couldn’t_ walk, so his options were to sit here in the middle of the path, crying and refusing help, or go inside and Azula’s own doctors would bandage him up. He had to get over his fear of doctors at _some_ point, right? It was just an irrational worry, he had no reason to refuse help and suffer alone. It’s not like Toph would have any better idea how to treat a broken bone, and besides, he wasn’t due to meet up with her until that evening.

“Put your arms around like this…here,” Foman said, as he and another Dai Li agent lifted Zuko up with their shoulders. “Let’s just go inside, and everything will be fine.”

“Okay,” Zuko grunted, still trying to resist the pain. He’d have thought he’d be used to the sensation of broken bones by now, but clearly, it was not something he was ever going to get used to. Thank Agni he’d broken it _here,_ surrounded by therapists and people whose _jobs_ it was to help people. They were doing wonders for Azula, so this had to be the best place in the world for him to be right now. They carried him back into the seaside palace.

——————————————————————

**THREE WEEKS LATER**

——————————————————————

“It’s been three weeks since they went to visit Azula,” Aang said, biting his lip.

“I know,” Katara said, “but Zuko _said_ he wanted to stay for a little while and see what it was like living there.”

“He said he’d be gone a few _days,_ ” Aang said nervously. For what felt like the thousandth time, he scanned the sky for any sign of the war balloon.

“Maybe he wanted to stay longer,” Katara shrugged.

“Wouldn’t he have sent a letter or something, then?” Aang asked.

“Maybe he and Toph are on the coolest field trip _ever,_ ” Sokka sighed. “A two-week field trip? Who _knows_ what they’re doing. I bet it’s _really_ cool. I _knew_ he thought shopping was lame—”

“Maybe I should take Appa to see what’s going on,” Aang said.

“You suggested that yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that,” Suki said. “Aang, if something _is_ going wrong over there, Appa is _flammable.”_

“You’re right,” Aang said. “I should take a war balloon, right? We should _all_ go! Just to check on them.”

“Just to be clear, you _really_ think the best plan is to show up in a war balloon and tell Zuko, the Fire Lord of Believing-Something-Will-Go-Wrong, that you were _worried_ about him?” Sokka raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, _that_ will help convince him his blind paranoia and anxiety are misplaced.”

“I’m a little worried too,” Katara said. “But Aang, Zuko is with Toph. Even if he couldn’t handle himself, what could they possibly run into that _Toph_ couldn’t deal with?”

“I guess you’re right,” Aang said.

“Plus, I think that’s them,” Sokka pointed. “Or, we’re about to get attacked by a war balloon.”

Aang squinted up into the sky. Emerging from behind a cloud was a red war balloon, the same one Zuko and Toph had taken to visit Azula. “Hey, you’re right! It’s them!” They were still too far away to see clearly, but the taller of the two figures waved.

——————————————————————

“Finally, you’re back!” Aang beamed and jumped up and down in excitement as the balloon landed.

“Shut up, Twinkletoes, we’ve got a problem,” Toph said. She jumped out of the boat, followed by a woman with dark hair that nobody recognized. “This is Tuyi. Tuyi, everyone.”

“Hi,” Tuyi waved.

“Where’s Zuko?” Sokka asked.

“I have no idea, also, we’re all fucked,” Toph said. Her clothes were ragged and dirty, and she looked like she hadn’t seen a bar of soap in a while. “Get everyone together. We need to talk.”

——————————————————————

_Toph jumped out of the war balloon. “You couldn’t have set me down closer to town, Sparky?”_

_“I don’t want to attract attention,” Zuko said, with a nervous flutter in his heartbeat._

_“It’s no big deal. I can walk from here,” Toph said. Zuko and the war balloon stopped touching the ground, which she presumed meant they were now flying to the seaside palace. She could feel the town not far from where she was dropped off. She was in a bit of a valley, and the town was up on a hill near the palace. She set off walking._

_She arrived in town, and it was nothing like the city of Caldera. It was nothing like anywhere she’d ever been. It was much quieter than it should be, for one thing, and there was something not-quite-right about the people. Some of them seemed normal, but almost half the town walked around with a weird sense of…purpose? It wasn’t quite calm, it felt like the way it feels when someone is hiding something, or preparing for a surprise party, or…it just felt weird. This was NOT the place to play up the “I’m just a poor blind girl, somebody help me” act—it wasn’t somewhere she wanted anyone to think she couldn’t take care of herself. She wandered around in town, investigating and feeling out whatever she could. The palace was a little further away, but close enough that she could get a sense of it. Unlike the one that was now a pile of ash in Caldera, this palace didn’t feature any secret underground prisons. Or at least she hoped it didn’t. There were all sorts of underground tunnels below the town, below the palace, too, but they didn’t have the regular patterns of Ozai’s secret prison. It felt more natural, and it must have been pretty full of running water, because it was all wobbly and weird on her senses. She couldn’t feel anybody down there, so either nobody even knew it existed, or the underground river was REALLY mucking up her ability to feel out the tunnels._

_As she moved through town, she felt something familiar. It was unmistakably Iroh—the weight, the heartbeat, the feel of him, it was DEFINITELY him. She burst past someone on the front step into a shop smelling strongly of tea, and it was DEFINITELY Iroh there, serving tea to someone with one of his proverbs._

_“Iroh!” She called out to him, and the door swished open again behind her. Someone way-too-quiet followed her in, his whole body radiating tension._

_“Excuse me?” Iroh said, confused. “You must have me confused for someone else, young lady. My name is Mushi. Welcome to the Jasmine, my tea shop. Can I get you anything?”_

_Toph weighed her options. There were three more too-quiet people gathering outside the door, and the one who’d followed her in was getting closer. Years of pretending to be a helpless rich kid were about to come in very handy. Better to pretend to be helpless than get into a fight._

_“I’m so sorry!” Toph gushed. “As you can see, I’m blind. Your voice sounded a little familiar, but I guess I was wrong!” The guy behind her relaxed, and the ones outside the door stopped huddling up with each other. “May I have some tea, Mushi?”_

_“We have many varieties,” Iroh said, and she was starting to get a sense of him now. He BELIEVED what he was saying, the same way Jet had believed he was helping them back in Ba Sing Se._

_“Is there anywhere to sit? As I said before, I am blind,” Toph said, not-quite-subtly directing this at the too-quiet man._

_“Right over here, allow me to help you,” Iroh said, moving her to a table. Toph drank a cup of tea and did an excellent job of pretending to have no idea who he was. The men outside dispersed, and the one following her disappeared back to the front step. She excused herself, toddled out of the shop, then slipped into an alley and opened a hole in the ground, and threw herself into the tunnels before anyone could spot her. She’d have to come back later that night, when no one was around. This town was FULL of Dai Li. She could hardly believe she hadn’t recognized their signature before. She’d meet Zuko at the rendezvous point, they’d pick up Iroh, and then they’d all regroup in the seaside palace. There was NO WAY she was going to sleep a night unprotected in town, not while it crawled with Dai Li agents._

_The tunnels turned out to be horribly confusing to her senses. As she’d guessed, they were full of water, and she slipped more than once, getting soaked through and gaining a few scratches and bumps. She made it outside of the town limits before propelling herself back to the surface. She walked the rest of the way to where Zuko had said to meet him, and waited. He said he’d be back before the sun set. She kept her senses trained on the palace, ready for any sign of trouble, but the people-moving-around sensation didn’t change noticeably throughout the day, and she couldn’t pick Zuko out of the bustle._

_However, when Zuko didn’t come back to meet up with her, she knew something must have happened. She was going to owe him so many apologies when she rescued him. He’d always said he was suspicious about how they were treating Azula up here, and she’d assumed it was paranoia. She was going to have to break into the palace and get him out, and maybe Azula, too, if Crazy Blue wasn’t still in charge of the Dai Li. She waited until it got even colder, hoping there was no moon that night. The darker it was, the better her advantage would be._

_She didn’t want to risk the tunnels (she didn’t need the distraction of navigating the area on TOP of rescuing Zuko) so she tried a more direct approach. She ran up to the side of the palace wall, and HOLY SHIT there were suddenly SO MANY PEOPLE. They must have been hiding up in the trees, disguising their numbers. She wished she was better at cursing. She may have been the greatest earthbender in the world, but she barely managed to escape. She did her best, but thirty-something-against-one is still terrible odds. Better to escape and come back fro Zuko than get taken to him as a fellow prisoner._

_She threw some statues around the palace courtyard as a distraction, and went back into town. She marched directly to the tea shop, and felt that Iroh was alone inside, sleeping in the back room. She didn’t want to draw any Dai Li agents by blasting open the door, so she slammed a tiny rock through the keyhole until the door opened._

_“Is someone there?” Iroh asked sleepily._

_“Iroh, it’s me, Toph. Do you recognize me?” She went up close to him so he could get a good look at her._

_“You were here earlier today. You’re blind…How did you get in my shop?”_

_“No time to explain. I need you to come with me. There’s a war balloon nearby, but I need a firebender to use it.”_

_“Young miss, I may be living in the Fire Nation, but I am no firebender. I’m from Ba Sing Se—“_

_“Shit,” Toph swore, and she felt the rumbling of more agents coming down to the tea shop. “Iroh, please! Can you remember ANYTHING?”_

_“My name is Mushi,” Iroh said, but his heartbeat wavered for JUST a fraction of a second. No time to deal with that now, she’d have to escape before the Dai Li caught her, and come back for him later. The list of people she had to rescue was getting uncomfortably long, now. She needed to get back to Aang, Katara, and Sokka, and bring everyone here, as many people as she could get to even out the odds. She smashed out the back door, and bolted away. She could hear shouting and confusion behind her as the Dai Li swarmed into the Jasmine’s back room. She let herself back into the tunnels and found a spot to settle down for the night. She’d get some sleep, and the next morning, she’d find a firebender to take the war balloon back to Caldera._

_There were no firebenders to be found in town, at least none she could find without attracting the Dai Li’s attention. It took her four days to determine that there were ACTUALLY no firebenders in town. She got directions for the closest city from someone she hoped wasn’t Dai Li, and she headed off. It took a week to walk there. Her feet were killing her. She’d had to eat what she could catch raw, which limited her mostly to plants and berries. There was one good thing about the distance, however—she was absolutely sure she wasn’t followed. It didn’t take long to determine that this, thankfully, was a normal town, free of Dai Li agents. She went into the market and held up her pouch, and explained loudly to passersby that she needed a good firebender and was willing to pay._

_At first, Tuyi wasn’t willing to offer her services as a firebender, but she was willing to offer a place for Toph to stay the night. Over dinner, Toph did her best to explain the seriousness of the situation. Even the Avatar was involved, Toph explained, and wouldn’t Tuyi like to meet the Avatar? Tuyi expressed discomfort at the idea of meeting the person who stole Ozai’s bending ability, so Toph scaled back on that and explained that the Fire Nation royal family needed her. Tuyi agreed to help. They packed food and water, and they traveled on foot back towards the seaside palace. A week of walking later, under cover of night, Toph broke through the palace wall and beat back the agents as Tuyi started the war ballon’s engine. Tuyi pulled Toph in, and Toph deflected projectiles until they were out of the Dai Li’s range. Toph was less than helpful at providing directions to Caldera, but Tuyi had been there before, and knew the way._

——————————————————————

No one could remember _ever_ having seen Toph so angry as she was when she told them what had happened in the three weeks she’d been gone.

“The Dai Li have Iroh, and they’ve brainwashed him, just like they brainwashed Jet,” Katara said, fuming.

“We have to assume they’ve got Zuko too,” Toph said.

“Is…Is Azula still controlling them, like she was when we were in Ba Sing Se?” Sokka asked.

“I don’t know,” Toph shook her head.

“I was worried something like this might happen,” Mai sighed. “The Dai Li have their hooks in the Fire Nation. Even without Azula, they’re here to stay.”

“What are we going to do?” Ty Lee asked.

“We have to go rescue them!” Aang said. “Iroh first, since he’s out in the open, then Zuko?”

“They might have moved Iroh now that they know I know where he is,” Toph said. “They had more than two weeks to do whatever they wanted without me around to notice.”

“I made the same mistake, it’s just how it was after the comet,” Katara said. “We knew that removing Ozai wasn’t enough to destabilize the Fire Nation military, but I still removed Long Feng as if that would destabilize the Dai Li.”

“What did you do?” Suki raised an eyebrow.

“Nothing serious. I just scared him a little,” Katara said.

“You said “what happens on a field trip stays on a field trip,” Sokka said.

“And it _does,_ ” Katara said. “That’s all I have to say about Long Feng. I _know_ he’s not still around.”

“Then who’s in charge of the Dai Li?” Aang asked.

“If I had to guess,” Aikoyo said, “I would say Foman. He’s supposed to be Azula’s lead therapist, but he’s stopped sending letters since Zuko went to the seaside palace.”

“We need a plan,” Sokka said. “We have to figure out how to get Iroh and Zuko out safely, and Azula too.”

“I have a plan,” Toph said, gesturing at the assembled group. “We go back there, and destroy the place.”

“That’s…not exactly a plan,” Aang said.

“The plan is open to suggestions, but let’s talk on the way there. I’ve already left Zuko alone for too long,” Toph slammed her hand on the table. Everyone looked at Sokka.

“Whatever we do, we _should_ do it fast. I’m okay with making a plan in the war ballon,” Sokka shrugged.

“Then let’s go,” Toph said. “Oh, um, Tuyi, you don’t have to come, if you want to wait until after we’re done kicking the Dai Li’s entire ass apart.”

“I might just wait in Caldera until you get back,” Tuyi said nervously. “I’ve got some family here…I was happy to help you, Toph, but I really don’t want to get more involved.”

“Take whatever you want from the treasury, I owe ya one,” Toph said, hugging her. “Good luck with your singing career. You’re really good, and your dad is _sure_ to support you if you just tell him that’s what you want.”

“Thank you, Toph,” Tuyi hugged her back. “I hope your friends don’t let you do that thing you did back at the palace again.”

“Like they could stop me!” Toph laughed.

“I’m gonna be honest, I want to be friends with Tuyi,” Sokka said.

“No time! Everyone back on the war balloon!” Toph barked.

——————————————————————

Lee opened his eyes. He reached up with both hands to push his hair out of his eyes, and discovered it wasn’t there. He felt the top of his head. He still had a little bit of fuzz, maybe it was an inch long or two on top, but it felt weird on the edges. Like it hadn’t been cut—like it was burned, or something.

“Nephew! You’re awake!” His uncle, Mushi, leaned over him. They were in a little room together. Lee was lying on a bedroll, and Mushi sat on a little stool next to him. It smelled of tea. Jasmine tea.

“Uncle?” Lee tried to sit up, and found that his leg hurt too much to move. “What’s happening?”

Mushi knelt beside the bedroll and hugged Lee, as hard as he could. Lee winced at the sharp pain on his ribcage, and Mushi eased off. Lee took a few breaths until he could feel his chest again, then hugged back. He felt like he was going to start crying, but he couldn’t remember why. “I’ve missed you so much,” Mushi said, softly.

“I’ve missed you too,” Lee said, continuing to hug despite his rib’s protest. “I’m so sorry, for everything.”

“For what, nephew?” Mushi asked, taking Lee’s chin in his hand.

“I…don’t know,” Lee said. It was true. He didn’t know why, but he felt he’d done something horrible, and he needed to apologize for it.

“You have done nothing to wrong me,” Mushi said, hugging him. “Can I get you something? Water? Tea? Anything?”

“Tea’s fine,” Lee shrugged. His head felt all fuzzy and cottony on the inside. “What…what’s happened to me? What happened to my leg? Where are we, Uncle?”

“You’re in the Fire Nation, but it’s okay,” Mushi soothed. “We’re safe here, under the protection of my old friend Foman.”

“Foman,” Lee repeated. The name was familiar, somehow. It must be because he was an old friend of Uncle’s. Uncle must have mentioned him before.

“You’ve been sick, very sick,” Mushi said, feeling Lee’s forehead. “Foman found you not long ago, feverish and barely alive. He took care of you until you were well enough to come back to me. He brought you here yesterday. He said he thinks your leg is broken, and advised a doctor. The Jasmine has been doing well, recently, so I think we can afford one if we’re careful and don’t restock supplies until the end of the month—“

“Uncle,” Lee said, interrupting. “I love you. So much. I don’t really care what’s happened. We’re together again. We’ve got a place to work, you have a place for us to sleep…nothing else matters.”

“You’re right, of course,” Mushi said, but Lee could still see a few lines of worry on his face.

——————————————————————

“How did you sleep?” Mushi asked.

“Alright, I guess,” Lee yawned.

“I know that look,” Mushi sighed. “You’ve been having nightmares, haven’t you?”

“How do you always know, Uncle?” Lee groaned.

“I know you too well,” Mushi smiled. “That, and you talk in your sleep. Do you remember any of it?”

“No,” Lee said. “As soon as I wake up, it all just…fades away.”

“After everything that’s happened to you, you deserve to live without fear of nightmares,” Mushi said, grinding up his tea leaves a little more angrily.

“What are you talking about, Uncle?” Lee laughed, then winced as he felt it on his ribs. “The worst thing that’s ever happened to me was breaking my leg, and it’ll heal soon enough.”

“I guess you’re right,” Mushi sighed. “I just worry about you. You sounded so scared last night. I couldn’t wake you, and you were yelling all kinds of strange things…”

“Like what?” Lee asked.

“Oh, just stuff and nonsense,” Mushi waved his hand. “In the light of day, it hardly makes sense to repeat it.”

“Yeah,” Lee said, carefully sitting up. “Can I have some tea?”

“Of course, nephew,” Mushi smiled. He brought over a cup of jasmine tea, and passed it over. Lee sipped it, then spat it out on the ground.

“Yuck! This doesn’t taste right, Mushi.” Lee grimaced.

“Here, let me try,” Mushi said, taking a sip himself. “It seems fine to me. Not too burnt, just the right flavor…what’s wrong with it?”

“I’m not sure,” Lee said, furrowing his brow in confusion. “It tastes like…I don’t know what, it just tastes weird. Do you have any of the kind with the spice?”

“I know the one you mean,” Mushi smiled. “I’ll make some of that blend now. Snap Flowers, Dragon’s Breath, and a little bit of salt. Hardly anyone orders it out here.”

“Thank you,” Lee said. “You know…I was thinking maybe I could help serve, today? You’re so overwhelmed with customers, because people always want to talk to you. I could help lighten the load.”

“A kind offer,” Mushi ruffled Lee’s hair, “but you can hardly walk, nephew. Perhaps you’d be willing to sit at the counter and make tea?”

“I can try,” Lee shrugged. “I’ve never done it before, but I’m not much help with anything else if I can’t walk. Maybe if we had some crutches—”

“You don’t have to be helpful,” Mushi said. “You just have to be here. Alive, safe…happy.”

“I _am_ happy, Uncle,” Lee smiled. Something not-quite-remembered dragged at the edges of his thoughts. He idly wondered: If he was really so happy, what were his nightmares about? He smoothed his short, singed hair with one hand. He _was_ happy, and he wouldn’t question why. The same something whispered for his attention in the back of his mind, saying something about how didn’t it feel familiar, having a broken leg? Didn’t he recognize that sensation? But he quashed it. “Uncle, will you show me how to use the spark rocks again?”

——————————————————————

Lee hummed to himself as he focused on mixing tea leaves in the back room. Uncle was out front, serving, taking orders, talking to people, just generally being Uncle. Lee was struggling to get the spark rocks to light, but he wasn’t going to ask for help. He’d get it soon enough. He could hear Mushi’s voice through the thin walls.

“Foman, my old friend!” Mushi called out. Ah, Uncle had said his friend would be visiting today. Uncle said Foman was the one who found Zuko sick and shivering in the cold somewhere, and rescued him.

“Mushi,” came the response, and a chill slithered down Lee’s spine. Was _that_ Foman? His voice was so… _familiar,_ the something in the back of his mind whispered. But that made sense. If Foman had been caring for him, of course Lee would recognize his voice. “How are you today?”

“Everything is so much better since you brought my nephew back to me,” Mushi’s voice came muffled through the wall. “I can’t thank you enough for taking care of him.”

“I would never dream of giving your nephew anything but my closest attention,” Foman said, and Lee felt his blood run cold. The something reared its ugly head. It had something important to say, something about why that voice was so disturbing—

“Here he is!” Mushi beamed, opening the door to the back room. A tall man stood behind him, leering down evilly at Lee. Lee shook his head, trying to clear out the cottony feeling. The “evil” part was his own overactive imagination, just the nightmares trying to creep into real life. “He’s getting healthier every day!” Mushi smiled.

“Good morning, Lee,” Foman said.

“Good morning, sir,” Lee bowed, just the way Uncle had taught him to treat customers.

“How are you feeling? Your uncle tells me you’re having nightmares,” Foman said.

“It’s nothing,” Lee said.

“I hope it’s nothing some time with your Uncle can’t cure,” Foman smiled. Lee shuddered. “After all, you were so sick when I found you, feverish and close to death. If I hadn’t rescued you, who knows what might have happened?”

“Who knows what might have happened,” Lee repeated dully.

“Aren’t you going to thank me?” Foman raised an eyebrow.

Lee ran his hand through his too-short hair. “…Was my hair…longer, when you rescued me?”

“I believe it could have been,” Foman said. “It was so tangled and knotted, I thought it was best to get it out of your way. Did I make a mistake?”

“No,” Lee said. He felt all fuzzy, and the something was still trying to speak to him.

“You’re perfectly safe here in this tea shop,” Foman said. “Your uncle will take excellent care of you.”

“Uncle will take care of me,” Lee repeated. The fuzzy feeling got more intense, but it was a nice feeling. Light and fluffy, happy like he’d fallen into a cloud. It made the something shut up, and it made the fears he’d had about Foman seem silly. Foman was Uncle’s friend, and after all, he’d rescued Lee.

“I’ll leave you to make your tea,” Foman nodded. “It’s good to see you’re feeling better.”

“Thank you!” Lee smiled. “I really _am_ feeling better. Thank you for…” He lost track of what he was going to say.

“…for taking care of you while you were sick?” Foman supplied.

“Yes, thank you,” Lee bowed politely.

“I doubt you even remember staying in my house at all, you were so feverish,” Foman said, with a lilt to his voice like eh was suspicious about something.

“I don’t,” Lee shook his head, but when he looked up, Foman was already gone.

“Are you feeling alright, nephew? You look a little pale,” Mushi fussed, holding his hand over Lee’s forehead.

“Just fine, Uncle,” Lee smiled. “Your friend seems nice. How did you meet him?”

“On vacation at Lake Laogai,” Mushi said.

“I’ve heard it’s nice there,” Lee said.

“Very nice,” Mushi said, but he frowned as if he was thinking about something else.

“Are _you_ okay, Uncle?” Lee asked.

“I’m fine,” Mushi said, taking Lee in a tight hug. “You’re here, you’re safe…nothing else matters.”

“Yeah,” Lee smiled, hugging back.

——————————————————————

“Okay, is everyone clear on the plan?” Sokka asked. They’d landed the war balloon in the valley near town.

“Mai and I will go into town now and see if the Jasmine is open,” Suki said. “If it is, and Iroh is still there, Mai stays with him and I find your team to check in. If he’s still there, we break in and get him out tonight, as soon as it gets dark.” Mai nodded in acknowledgment.

“Good,” Sokka said. “Katara?”

“Toph, Aikoyo and I are going into the underground tunnels. Between the three of us we should be able to map them,” Katara said. “We meet back here when we have a plan to get into the seaside palace undetected, or later tonight for the Jasmine break-in.”

“Great,” Sokka rubbed his hands together. “I’ll go into town with Ty Lee and we’ll get ready to provide a distracting cover if anyone needs it. Does everyone remember the signal?”

“You’re not going to be able to hear us making a bird call if we’re underground,” Toph rolled her eyes.

“Or all the way across town,” Mai said.

“I’ll hear it, okay? What’s the point of a secret plan if we don’t have a secret signal? Or Aang will just tell us what’s happening, I guess,” Sokka sighed. “Aang?”

“I use my glider, I stay in the clouds, if I spot any large crowds or suspicious stuff, I warn everyone,” Aang said. “But…how _am_ I supposed to warn Katara, Toph, and Aikoyo if they’re underground?”

“Figure it out, Avatar, earthbend or something,” Sokka rolled his eyes.

“Tap _this_ on the ground hard enough, and I’ll feel it,” Toph said. She tapped out a pattern with her finger.

“Got it,” Aang said, but it looked very much as if he did not have it.

“Tap any repeated pattern with a big enough boulder, I’ll figure it out,” Toph sighed.

“Got it,” Aang said, more confidently.

“Are we ready?” Sokka looked around the group. “Hands in. Operation Rescue on three! One, two—“

“Operation Rescue,” everyone said, with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

Sokka rubbed his hands together. “Let’s go.”

——————————————————————

“Get back,” Mai said. She grabbed Suki’s hand and pulled her deeper into the shadows. They were across the street from the Jasmine. A man in green sat on the front step.

“What did you see?” Suki whispered.

“The woman who just left the store, and the one on the front step—look at the bracelets they wear. That’s part of the Dai Li uniform, to always keep earth close by to use as a weapon, or as handcuffs. They’re both agents, and there’s probably more close by,” Mai narrowed her eyes and scanned the street.

“That’s a good sign, then!” Suki smiled.

“I don’t see how,” Mai glared.

“Iroh _must_ be inside. Why else would the place be swarming with agents?” Suki shrugged. “Now at least we know it was a good idea to come here.”

“We just need to confirm Iroh _is_ actually inside,” Mai said. “You want to go, or should I?”

“Together,” Suki said. “If we’re discovered, better to have each others’ backs.”

“Agreed,” Mai nodded. She and Suki did the two-person version of their prison handshake, before linking elbows and stepping into the street. They crossed without incident, though Mai subtly pointed out a few more agents Suki hadn’t noticed. They entered the Jasmine.

There were good reasons why Mai and Suki were chosen for this team. Mai had extensive knowledge of the Dai Li from her experiences with Azula in Ba Sing Se, and Suki was more than capable of providing a bubbly explanation of their cover if they were stopped by anyone. An additional benefit: neither of them were as attached to Iroh as the others. Aang, Katara, Sokka, and Toph traveled with him for a few months as he taught Aang to firebend. Zuko, Aikoyo, and anyone else from the palace would also be desperate to see Iroh again. Mai and Suki had the best chance of avoiding a cover-blowing reaction upon seeing Iroh in whatever state he was in, which would be “brainwashed” if Toph’s information was correct, but possibly worse, depending on what had happened in the past three weeks. Mai and Suki walked into the Jasmine fully prepared to dispassionately gather intel and skedaddle as fast as they could.

“Welcome to the Jasmine,” Zuko smiled. He was sitting on a stool near the front door, beaming like he’d never been happier. “Can I get you anything?”

“Zuko,” Mai managed to choke out the word. Suki took a half-step away from her and scanned the store. Seven customers were dispersed at various tables. Iroh was also here, facing away from them, near the back wall, making tea. Zuko’s leg was wrapped in bandages, obviously injured, but she wasn’t sure how badly. Most importantly, the Dai Li agent on the front step sat up just a little bit straighter when he heard Mai say it again: “Zuko.” She grabbed his shoulders and looked into his eyes.

“I’ve…never heard of that blend of tea,” Zuko said, confused. “Do you know what’s in it? Mushi can check in the back.”

“Excuse us,” Suki smiled, pulling Mai away from Zuko. “We’re new in town, we’ve been traveling for a while. My friend is just tired. Can we sit anywhere?”

“Feel free,” Zuko smiled, gesturing towards some empty chairs. “Call me over if you need anything.”

“Oh dear, are you hurt?” Suki asked, pointedly looking at Zuko’s wrapped leg.

“It’s just a small break,” Zuko blushed. “I’m really okay, I can serve and everything. People keep asking about it, but I can move around just fine. That’s what the crutches are for, right?”

“Oh, of course,” Suki gushed. “You poor dear! Are you working here all by yourself?”

“No, this is my uncle’s shop,” Zuko gestured at Iroh. “He’s over there, his name is Mushi. My name is Lee. It’s nice to meet you.” He smiled. It was an uncharacteristic smile for him, like he didn’t have a care in the world, like there was nothing weighing him down.

“We’ll just sit down right over there and think about what we want to order,” Suki performed another fake smile and pushed Mai a short distance away into a booth.

“Just yell if you need anything!” Zuko/Lee waved happily.

“Will do,” Suki waved back. She sat in the booth with Mai. “Well. This was…unexpected. How are you holding up?”

“I shouldn’t be so surprised,” Mai said, in a perfect emotionless monotone. “I worried about this for so long, I should have been prepared to see it happen.”

“There was no way to prepare for this,” Suki said, putting her hand over Mai’s on the table. “I remember the nightmare-scenario you were training for at Boiling Rock, you were expecting to fight him, not play-act like you don’t know him.”

“I should have protected him,” Mai grunted, looking away. “I wasn’t there for him. I knew the risks, I knew the Dai Li were still out there somewhere, I shouldn’t have let him visit Azula alone.”

“You didn’t,” Suki said. “Even if it _was_ your job to protect him, he came here with _Toph._ How were we supposed to know there was _anyone_ who could beat Toph in a fight?”

“I can’t stay here,” Mai said. “I know I was supposed to be the one to watch them, but I need to leave. I’ll go tell Sokka and Ty Lee what’s going on here, will you be okay by yourself?”

“Oh honey, of course I can take care of everything!” Suki smiled her fake smile. She let it drop off her face as she leaned in close. “Remember, we’re here on a rescue mission. Now that we know where he is, we can get him _out._ At least he’s not rotting away underground somewhere, right? He’s out in the open. We can grab him.”

“You’re right,” Mai said. “This won’t affect me during the mission, I just need to process this a little bit more before I…deal with it.”

“I’ll be here,” Suki said. “Take all the time you need, but get to Sokka and tell him what’s going on. Watch out for the agent out front, he definitely heard you calling him “Zuko.” I’ll see what else I can find out here.”

Mai nodded, did the handshake with Suki, then swooshed out of the Jasmine. Suki watched Zuko reach out to her as she was leaving, then painstakingly grab his crutches and maneuver off the stool towards her booth. She put on the fake smile again. She had the feeling she’d be wearing it for a while.

“Mind if I sit?” Zuko asked. “I can’t take your order standing up. Nowhere to write it down.”

“Be my guest,” Suki said. “If you don’t mind, how did _that_ happen? I thought it must be a pretty boring life, running a tea shop, but here you are with a broken leg?”

“I guess I was sick a little while ago, and hurt myself wandering around outside with a fever,” Zuko shrugged. “I can still move around, and when I need a break, I can sit down in the back.”

“Lee, who’s this nice young lady?” Iroh came up to the table with a warm pot of tea. “Hello, miss. Welcome to the Jasmine.”

“My name is Suki. You must be…”

“Mushi,” Iroh smiled. “My nephew and I run this tea shop together. He makes a fine cup of tea.”

“Uncle,” Zuko hissed. “Stop it.”

“What?” Iroh smiled. “Is it a crime to introduce a young lady to a nice young man?”

It was disorienting, trying to keep track of them. Remember to call him “Mushi,” he’s not Iroh right now. Remember to call him “Lee,” he’s not Zuko right now. It was like talking to a ghost, or a spirit wearing your friend’s face, or something else equally horrifying. It was too creepy for Suki to think of a better metaphor. Just focus on gathering information, worry about their safety when it’s time to rescue them. “How long have you both been here?” Suki asked.

“I’ve been here for a while, ever since I relocated from Ba Sing Se,” Iroh said. “My nephew here only joined me here a few days ago. He was sick a little while ago, my good friend Foman was taking care of him.”

Suki vaguely remembered hearing that Iroh had been missing since the old palace got burned down, but at least Iroh looked unharmed—that was more than could be said for Zuko. If “Lee” only came to the tea shop a few days ago, that left more than two weeks when Zuko’s whereabouts were unaccounted for. In that time, Zuko got brainwashed, broke a bone again, lost a significant amount of his growing-it-out bangs to… a fire? (the hair looked burnt at the edges, it was unmistakable), and if the way he was sitting all tense and hunched over was any indication, it looked like he might have bruised or broken some of his ribs, and that cut on his face didn’t look fresh but it certainly hadn’t been there when he’d left to visit Azula. Who knew what other injuries he was hiding? Who knew what had _happened_ to him? But she’d gotten distracted, and Iroh was saying something.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Suki blinked.

“I asked if you know what you want to order,” Iroh smiled.

“I can take orders myself, I don’t need your help,” Zuko sighed, but it wasn’t the usual desperate-to-be-self-sufficient sigh she remembered from the apartment building. Zuko was _smiling_ , like he actually knew how to accept help when he needed it.

“What do you recommend?” Suki asked.

Iroh said something else, Suki just nodded and agreed to whatever it was. “Come along, nephew, let’s get you behind a teapot. That’s enough exercise for the day, you wouldn’t want to hurt yourself.”

“Yes,” Zuko said, standing up. Iroh helped him onto the crutches and then guided him towards the back, settling him down in a chair behind the counter. As Zuko settled into the chair and began setting up with his spark rocks, his crutches fell over on the floor behind him. He looked up, then went back to his work. So that was something else that had happened in the lost two weeks: Zuko didn’t flinch at loud noises anymore, he accepted help from people who cared about him… Metaphorically speaking, he wasn’t walking on eggshells, but to be fair, he was barely walking. Part of Suki wanted to yell at him, threaten him with one of his old fears (like his worry that she’d suddenly get angry at him and drag him back to Kyoshi Island, punish him for his crimes, etc.) just to see what he’d do. Another part of her watched him talking to his uncle (and even hugging him) and wanted to leave him there forever. Back at the apartment building, Zuko had worried he’d never get back this kind of relationship with Iroh, that there would always be some remnant of fear or anger getting in the way, but the Dai Li had stripped that out of him as completely as they had everything else.

She vaguely recalled hearing Zuko say he’d give up everything he’d achieved, his new friends, his responsibilities as Fire Lord, even his dragon-fire from the Sun Warriors, if he could just be with his uncle again, the only family that had never abandoned him. Technically, he’d achieved that.

She watched Zuko struggle with the spark rock. He set the end of his sleeve on fire, and flailed around trying to put it out. Iroh ran over with a pot of water and threw it on Zuko’s arm. Zuko ripped off the burnt part of the sleeve, revealing a bruise shaped like a handprint wrapped around his forearm.

“Lee! What happened?” Iroh asked.

“I…don’t know,” Zuko said, examining the mark in confusion. He poked it, and winced slightly at the pain.

Yeah. As cute as non-angsty Zuko was, there was _no_ way she could imagine leaving him like this. Iroh took Zuko into the back room, then came out a little while later with a cup of tea for her. She drank it, slowly. Right now, the important thing was to stick to the plan. Mai would tell everyone that Zuko was here too, and Suki’s job was to make sure they didn’t leave before the cavalry came to their rescue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, yeah. I wanted to do a time jump, but im worried its gonna bite me in the butt as soon as its time to explain what happened in those missing two weeks. stay tuned for possible decisions to retcon chapter 6 out of existence, and/or an entire chapter in this-happened-earlier-italics. 
> 
> ...y'all ive been really writing blocked this week, I churned out another 9k words for y'all but sometimes quarantine gets you down, you know? comments and stuff are very nice, thank you to people who comment on every chapter and thank you to people who comment once. ya keep me going.
> 
> I know I keep saying "this is it, we're in the home stretch, almost done" and by that I mean that the dai li thing is the last, like, THING of the story, once that's resolved all that's left to write is epilogue, but apparently that means at least a couple more chapters, so hold onto your butts because we got people to de-program, secrets to uncover, and...hm...I wonder what's going on with azula...
> 
> see you next week!


	7. Chapter 7

Lee looked at the back room of the tea shop, the living space he shared with Mushi. It was little, but it was cozy. There was a wall for storage (full of jars and little bottles and pots), there was the bed roll (and a blanket next to it so they could pretend they had two beds, and it was Lee’s turn on the bed roll again tonight), there was a little table where they could eat together, and there were two hampers, one full of dirty clothes and one clean. Lee looked down at the torn scrap of fabric in his hand and sighed, setting it down near the “dirty” hamper in a new pile. He looked for a scrap of paper and wrote “needs mending,” then dropped it on the remains of the sleeve. He shrugged out of the green robes and grabbed a new one from the clean pile. Before he put it on, he looked down at his wrist. The bruise was definitely shaped like a handprint. It still hurt, so it must have been _very_ recent, but he would have noticed if it had happened while he was here with Mushi. Yet another injury he’d picked up while he’d been sick. How sick had he _been_ , not to remember how he’d gotten hurt? Sick people don’t wander around breaking their legs, they sit in bed and cough and stuff. Lee didn’t have a cough.

He rubbed the weird skin on the left side of his face, where he had a burn scar. He couldn’t remember getting _that,_ either. Maybe he got the injuries and the burnt-off hairstyle the same way as the scar, some kind of fight with a firebender. Yeah, and maybe the firebender had a cold and sneezed on him right after so he’d get sick. Lee almost wanted to laugh. He would _never_ try to fight a _bender._ Nonbenders don’t stand a chance in those situations, that’s how you get killed and leave your uncle alone and sad. It was crazy to imagine he’d been in a fight. He must have gotten sick, just like Foman had said. He’d thrashed around in his sleep often enough since coming back to the tea shop, so he was pretty sure he _could_ have hurt himself accidentally, _especially_ if he had a fever.

The purplish color on his ribs was starting to fade a little bit more, but he still couldn’t put any pressure at all on his foot. Maybe he’d fallen off of something?

He remembered living in Ba Sing Se, and working in the Jasmine Dragon there. Uncle had picked the name. He remembered…waking up here, in the Jasmine. Uncle had picked the name. He shivered, and finished putting on the fresh robes. He couldn’t remember anything before the tea shop in Ba Sing Se. He couldn’t remember how he’d left Ba Sing Se, or when he and Uncle got separated. He couldn’t remember where he was or what he did in between then and when he woke up in this room, three days ago. Was that normal?

It must have been a terrible, terrible illness, if it affected him so badly. The fever had taken his memory, and in his own sickness, he’d hurt himself like he’d spent two weeks in… two weeks in… the end of the metaphor didn’t come to him, but needless to say, he was pretty beat up. He felt awful. He knew uncle couldn’t afford a doctor, but he knew uncle would try and save up for one anyway. Lee was fine, he really was—he’d heal soon enough, he just needed to get some rest and stay off his feet.

Sitting still was the absolute _worst_ , though. If he was alone with his thoughts for too long, he always felt like he was going to crawl out of his skin. Better to sit out front and talk to customers than sit back here, alone. That girl he saw, the one with the friend who didn’t want any tea, she looked really…pretty? Was the the right word for it? She was kind of scary, but he couldn’t figure out why. Uncle would probably say he had a crush on her. That must be it.

Mushi came in to check on him while he was still trying to work up the energy to use the crutches. “Are you feeling all right?” Mushi asked, touching Lee’s forehead.

“I’m fine, uncle, I promise,” Lee sighed, letting Mushi finish checking him out.

“You’re not getting sick again? You should drink something,” Mushi fussed, still concerned about Lee’s welfare over anything else.

“I’m not getting sick again,” Lee gulped. He couldn’t afford to get sick again—in such close quarters, uncle would be sure to get sick too, and then they’d _both_ be in trouble.

“Maybe I could close up shop for today, and we could sit, just the two of us,” Mushi said.

“Uncle, no, you don’t have to do that for me,” Lee blanched. “I’m fine, really.”

“Nonsense! We could play a game of Pai Sho,” Mushi smiled. “You’re always saying I work too hard. Why don’t we _both_ take a day off?”

“We can’t take a day off, we need money,” Lee protested.

“Now that’s an interesting paradox,” Mushi mused, smiling and raising an eyebrow. “You insist you don’t need a doctor, yet you think we need to save money. For what, I wonder?”

“…We’ll need medical help someday,” Lee flushed. “What if I _do_ get sick again?”

“All right, fair is fair,” Mushi held up his hands. “We’ll close up shop early today, but we’ll still save money so we can get a doctor to look at you. Does that sound fair?”

“Okay,” Lee agreed quickly. He paused to think about this. “Wait, that’s not—“

“Too late!” Mushi chuckled. He disappeared into the front room, and Lee could hear him ushering customers away and washing dishes, cleaning everything up. Mushi came back into the room humming to himself happily. Lee sighed. He could never say no to his uncle when he was happy about something like this.

“All right, let’s play Pai Sho,” Lee groaned. “Why do you even like playing against me? You always win.”

“Pai Sho is full of useful strategies that can help you in your life,” Mushi said, setting up the board. “I…hm.” He looked thoughtful.

“What is it, uncle?” Lee asked.

“Nothing. I seem to recall I used to play it with my friends when I was a younger man, but I’m having some difficulty…remembering exactly who…” Mushi stroked his beard, thinking.

“You first, uncle,” Lee said.

“Right, of course,” Mushi said, placing down a tile. Lee put down a Lotus tile across from it, two identical pieces across from each other. “Interesting move to counter a Knotweed with a Lotus tile,” Mushi raised an eyebrow.

“Huh?” Lee looked down at the board again. There was, indeed, a Knotweed tile across from where he’d played the Lotus. “Uncle, you always start with the Lotus tile.”

“There are many ways to play Pai Sho, I can’t imagine limiting myself to just _one_ opening move,” Mushi shrugged.

“Yeah,” Lee said, quietly. Something was wrong about this. Was uncle feeling okay? Maybe it _was_ a good thing they took the day off. Maybe it was just Lee’s imagination, though.

They played for 45 minutes. Lee won. They were both surprised.

——————————————————————

“Report,” Foman snapped.

“Everything seems to be under control, sir,” Shu Gi bowed.

“Seems to be?” Foman glared suspiciously.

“It doesn’t appear that anything is interfering with the plan, but Zuko was recognized again today,” Shu Gi admitted.

“We knew that would happen when we planted him in the tea shop. He’s got the most recognizable face in the Fire Nation,” Foman sighed, and rubbed the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “What happened _this_ time?”

“Two women, one from the Fire Nation, one wearing green,” Shu Gi reported. “We believe the Earth Kingdom girl convinced her friend she was mistaken. Iroh closed down the shop and kicked everyone out, anyway.”

“I believe I said I didn’t want them closing up early anymore, Shu Gi,” Foman said. “We don’t want any unexpected surprises behind closed doors.”

“Not to worry, sir. Two agents monitored the situation. They played board games, and they spoke with each other, but there’s no indication either of the subjects is breaking the influence.”

“Yet you sound concerned, my friend,” Foman smiled. “What is the issue you hesitate to tell me?”

“They do…um, dance around some topics they should have no memories of,” Shu Gi said. “It’s…odd.”

“Is it a concern of mine, _yes_ or _no_?” Foman asked.

“As you know, sir, we’ve witnessed that Zuko is prone to apologizing and crying at random intervals, despite the fact that “Lee” should have no reason to do so. But additionally, it seems that Zuko remembers things about Iroh’s past that don’t apply to Mushi—“

“Ah, I see,” Foman waved his hand dismissively. “You’re describing a common phenomenon when two or more subjects under the influence are together. Conversations marked by long pauses, confusion, unexplainable emotions—it’s nothing strong enough to break the influence. Over time, the discrepancies will work themselves out.”

“Do you want to see transcripts of their conversations, sir?” Shu Gi held up some scrolls.

“Oh, to have competent underlings who don’t require my constant supervision,” Foman sighed. “Leave them here, I’ll look at them later. I don’t have time right now to double check the work that any first-year agent _should_ be performing without difficulty.”

“My sincerest apologies, I just wished to ensure there are no unexpected surprises,” Shu Gi bowed.

“Your intention is appreciated, but your work ethic needs adjustment,” Foman nodded. “Begin phase two, have the agents disperse as planned. You will remain here and personally supervise the tea shop. I’ll be holding _you_ responsible if there _are_ any unexpected surprises.”

“Sir, I thought I was accompanying you to—“

“Plans change,” Foman glared. “You will stay here.”

“Understood, sir,” Shu Gi bowed. He turned on his heel and marched out of the room. Foman rubbed his temples and pushed the transcripts into a small basket. He _would_ have to look at them later, if only to be absolutely sure Shu Gi _hadn’t_ missed something important. But for now, continuing the plan was too important. The window of opportunity was limited, and shrinking each day. They had to leave tonight.

He left some final instructions for Shu Gi on some scrap paper. _They die before they break the influence. I trust your discretion on when it will be necessary,_ Foman wrote. He stuck it under his new paperweight, a golden used-to-be-hairpiece shaped like a swoosh of lightning, with a few remnants of golden netting tangled around it. Then he collected what he needed, and left the office.

——————————————————————

“It’s getting late. You should get some sleep,” Mushi said. “It’s your turn on the bedroll tonight.”

“You’d have me sleep on the nicer bed _every_ night, uncle,” Lee sighed.

“What kind of man would I be if I just let you sleep on the floor? Spirits know you’re still recovering from your illness, and it seems every day I find a new injury on you—“

“I’m fine, uncle. And I won’t argue tonight, I know it’s my turn. But you’re getting older, and when _you_ sleep on the floor you get “a crick in your back,” and then _neither_ of us can walk, and someone’s got to serve tea—“

“Shh, shhh,” Mushi fussed, putting away some random pieces of clutter, tidying up the little room. “You worry too much about the tea shop, nephew. You should worry more about your health.”

“I’m not some…some…some _prince_ or something getting coddled up in a tower somewhere,” Lee scoffed. “I have bigger things to worry about than my _health.”_

“Ah, but as you said, I’m getting older. _I_ certainly don’t have anything bigger to worry about,” Mushi smiled. “Your safety is the only thing that matters to me. Once we have enough money for a doctor—“

“We _could_ spend it on a second bed,” Lee huffed. “Or we could store more non-perishable food, or—“

“We can talk about it in the morning, Lee,” Mushi sighed. He ruffled Lee’s short, singed hair. “Are you ready? I’m going to blow out the candle now.”

“Yeah. Ready,” Lee said. At the same time, they heard a knock at the door. The _back_ door.

“Now _that’s_ odd,” Mushi said. “I wonder who it could be. Who is it?” he called. The response was muffled behind the door.

“It’s just a customer, uncle, tell them to come back in the morning,” Lee groaned.

“I’m afraid we’re closed, you’ll have to come back tomorrow,” Mushi called. The knocking came again, a little bit louder, a little bit more insistent. Mushi smiled awkwardly at Lee, and whispered “They’re not going to go away, are they?”

“Ugh,” Lee scowled. “Fine.”

Mushi took the candle to the back door, and unfastened the lock. There was a small crowd of people standing behind it. Lee recognized the two girls that had come into the shop earlier, and with them was a little kid with arrow tattoos, two people dressed in blue, one in pink, another shorter one in green, and a tall woman in red. “Oh my,” Mushi raised his eyebrows. “I should tell you, we’re still closed—“

“Iroh!” the kid in the arrows and the blue ones burst in the door, hugging Mushi like _they_ were his relatives, not Lee. Lee looked around for something, anything he could use as a weapon. If they were getting robbed, he wasn’t going down without a fight.

“Don’t bother,” the short green girl said to her friends. “I told you, I already tried talking to him.”

“I recognize you,” Mushi furrowed his brow and looked at her. “Toph, is that right? You’re blind, you came into the shop maybe three weeks ago—“

“That’s me,” short green girl (Toph, apparently) said. She did something with one of her feet, and a few pebbles slid along the ground away from her. _Benders._ Were they all benders? If so, Lee had never seen so many at a time, and from all four nations? Was that really an _airbender?_ They were all supposed to be dead, unless this was…the Avatar? “Doesn’t seem like anyone’s onto us yet,” Toph said.

The woman in fire nation red, the tall one wearing what looked like a uniform, stepped closer to Lee, her hands held out so he could see she held no weapon. (She did have a sword on her belt, though.) “It’s all right. We’re here to save you, Zuko.”

Lee realized that he’d backed himself into a corner, but the small room was now full of people and there was _nothing_ even remotely close to a weapon he could use, especially not against _benders._ “I don’t know who you are, I don’t know who “Zuko” is, but you clearly have us confused with somebody else—“

“Aikoyo, stop it,” the girl in blue said, pulling on the tall woman’s arm. “You’re scaring him.”

“I…I’m sorry,” the tall woman (Aikoyo???? Lee was never very good with names) said. She stepped away again, still not drawing her weapon. “I didn’t mean—“

Lee saw his chance, and he took it. Aikoyo had a sword on her, and he was pretty sure he knew how to use a sword. He braced against the wall, and prepared to jump onto her, grab the weapon, and threaten everybody else to _get out_ and _leave them alone,_ but at the last second, his broken leg betrayed him and crumbled underneath him. He hissed in pain as he slid back down into the corner, absolutely no help to uncle.

“Your leg,” the blue girl said. “Let me—“

“Everybody stop, NOW!” Mushi bellowed, and the claustrophobic room went blessedly quiet. The crowd of strangers looked up at Mushi, who was furious. “You can sit down and have a cup of tea while explain who you are like _civilized_ people, or you can _get out of my shop!”_

“Right,” the blue girl said. She looked at the boy in blue with the weird ponytail.

“Um, hi,” the boy said. He looked at the boy with the tattoos.

“So, um, hello. My name is Aang. I’m the Avatar,” said the boy with the tattoos. Lee screamed.

——————————————————————

“Ouch,” Mai winced.

“Is that better?” Katara pulled the glowing water ball away from Mai’s hand. The wound was completely healed.

“Thank you, Katara,” Mai said.

“Normally, I would scold my nephew for biting a guest, but you _were_ covering his mouth, miss,” Iroh/Mushi said.

“He was screaming, and we’re trying not to get _caught,_ ” Mai said.

Mushi raised an eyebrow at her.

“Fine, I’m sorry, Zuko. Everyone happy?” Mai grumbled.

“I’m not apologizing,” Zuko/Lee said, still hunched over in the corner. “I’ll do it again.”

“Bite someone? Or scream? Please don’t, because we actually _are_ in danger of getting caught if you scream again,” Katara looked apologetic.

“Either,” Lee scowled. “You’ve told us your names, tell us why you’re here.”

“We’re not exactly in a position to be making demands, nephew,” Mushi sighed. “Does anyone need more tea?”

They sat in a weird not-quite-circle around the room, with Zuko cramming himself into a corner, Aang, Sokka, Suki, and Ty Lee at the table drinking tea, Katara between Mai and Aikoyo on the floor, and Toph standing next to Iroh, who was holding a teapot.

“We’re fine,” Aang said. “Thanks, Iroh. You make a really good cup of tea.”

“That’s not his name,” Lee hissed. “Stop calling him that!”

“I’ll try explaining again,” Toph said. “But it’s gonna take a while.”

——————————————————————

“How are we supposed to believe you?” Lee snapped. He’d finally emerged from the corner and was now sitting on the bedroll, trying to glare at everyone (but pretty much intimidating no-one).

“It _is_ a lot to take in,” Mushi said. “Miss…Katara, was it? Miss Katara, I saw you heal that young woman’s hand, and I must admit, I’m curious…could you do it again?”

“Of course,” Katara said, popping the cork on her waterskin. She noticed that Lee didn’t jump or flinch at the sound the way Zuko always did. That was _weird._ “But, um, what do you want me to do it on?”

“You claim that you might be able to “fix the brainwashing” if you can properly understand my “chi.” If I agree to let you…”scan my chi” with your water, will you heal my nephew’s injuries? His leg is the most immediate concern, but we’ve also found—“ Mushi started, but Lee cut him off.

“Uncle, don’t _tell_ them how injured I am. I can still defend myself,” Lee scowled at Katara.

“If you promise to heal him regardless of whether you can prove we’ve been brainwashed, you can make the attempt on me, first,” Mushi said.

“Uncle, this group of _strangers_ shows up and tells you that _Foman,_ your _friend,_ is evil, brainwashed us, and…and…I can’t even follow the whole story! You’re just going to _trust them?”_ Lee was incredulous.

“You _hate_ Foman, I know you do,” Mushi sighed. “You can’t stand to be in the same room as him, and you don’t remember why. I don’t care _who_ he is, all I want to know is—if he was taking care of you while you were “sick,” then why do you have so many bruises?”

“I…” Lee looked pleadingly at Mushi, then tried to glare at the crowd, then tried to do both at once and it came out all weird. Mushi walked over and sat next to him on the bedroll.”

“Lee, we might never be able to afford a doctor for you. If these people are offering to help us, I don’t know that we have a choice,” Mushi said, rubbing Lee’s shoulder.

“Oh, he doesn’t like doctors—“ Suki started.

“Okay,” Lee said, sitting up. “What does uncle have to do?”

“Huh,” Suki said, frowning. “… _That’s_ interesting.”

“If you could lay down, I’ll just kind of run my water ball over your body, like I did with Mai’s hand,” Katara said. “It doesn’t hurt, I promise. People say it feels tingly.”

“We think the Dai Li controls people by affecting their chi, somehow,” Mai said. “My girlfriend might be able to diagnose the problem, but Katara’s the one who could heal you.”

“I’d just poke you, see what I can find out,” Ty Lee wiggled her fingers. “It doesn’t hurt, honest.”

“Wait, you guys are together?” Sokka looked up.

“We have been since the day of the assassination attempt,” Mai rolled her eyes.

“The what?” Lee looked up, confused.

“How did you guys not know?” Ty Lee also looked confused, for different reasons.

“That’s really not the point, though,” Katara sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “But if there _is_ something wrong with your chi, we hope Aang and I can cure it. I’ll do my best with the healing water, and Aang can help you with mediation if it comes to that.”

“What if it’s _not_ a problem with our chi?” Mushi asked.

“What if there’s _nothing_ wrong, what are you going to do then?” Lee spat, daring someone to antagonize him.

“Well, has it affected your firebending?” Aang asked, sipping his tea.

“…My what?” Mushi asked.

“You’re the Dragon of the West, man! You’re one of the best firebenders out there! You taught Aang everything he knows,” Sokka said, elbowing Mushi in the side.

“Uncle…you can bend?” Lee went wide-eyed.

“You too, Zuko,” Suki said. “Fire for you, too.”

“This…how are we supposed to believe this,” Lee asked blankly, staring at the ground. He ran his fingers through his burnt-off hair. He was supposed to be able to bend fire…did _he_ do that? No, this was impossible. He wasn’t a bender, he was just a normal tea seller from Ba Sing Se.

“Hey, is that the spicy one?” Sokka pointed at Lee’s tea cup. “The one with the Snap Flowers?”

Lee just stared at him.

“That’s the only one that doesn’t taste like sleeping drugs, right?” Sokka said.

“I really don’t think I like this,” Lee huddled closer to Mushi. “I really never thought I’d even be this _close_ to the Avatar, much less get harassed by his _friends._ ”

“You’re my friend too, Zuko,” Aang said.

“This is making my head hurt,” Lee said, squeezing his eyes shut.

“In a perfect world, we don’t even need to finish explaining what’s happened…if I could just interfere with the brainwashing, it should restore your memories completely,” Katara said.

“We should probably do that quickly though, because we don’t want the Dai Li catching on and trying to stop us,” Sokka looked nervously at the back door.

“I’m still not feeling anything approaching. Which is weird…the last time I was here, they broke down the door almost before I could get away,” Toph frowned.

“All right,” Mushi nodded. “You’ll try your…magic…on me first, but if it doesn’t work, you must still try to heal my nephew.”

“I swear,” Katara said solemnly.

“If it doesn’t heal anything, I doubt it’s gonna do anything for my leg, uncle,” Lee grumbled. He moved out of the way and Mushi laid down flat on the bed.

——————————————————————

Katara closed her eyes. She held the ball of water over Iroh’s forehead. “Whatever it is, it’s here,” she said.

“That’s where the Light Chakra is,” Aang said. “It deals with insight, and it’s blocked by illusion.”

“I can feel… _something_ ,” Katara said. Iroh’s chi felt like a teapot, with a little clot of something stuck in the spout. She pulled at it, pushed it, tried to detangle it. Slowly, it loosened its grip, and she could sense the flow of chi pushing against it, trying to force it away. She helped it along with a little _nudge._

Iroh opened his eyes.

“Iroh? Is that you?” Aang asked, tentatively.

“You did it,” Iroh smiled and let out a long, slow, deep breath. “I am once again…myself.”

Katara leaned down and hugged him. Aang, Sokka, and Toph piled on too.

“You’re okay!” Toph yelled happily.

“Aside from a slight headache, I believe I’m fine,” Iroh rubbed his forehead. He sat up, suddenly, and went very still. He looked at Zuko, who glowered back at him. He knew that face too well.

“Mushi?” Lee asked suspiciously.

“They were right. About everything they said. You were right about Foman,” Iroh said, but before he could continue, Lee was hugging him around the waist.

“There’s something wrong with _me,_ too?” Lee asked.

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Iroh said, hugging back. “Zuko…Lee, I’m so sorry I’ve let this happen to you.”

“It’s not your fault, uncle,” Lee said, refusing to release the hug.

“It is,” Iroh said, and he felt himself starting to cry. “I’m afraid…we won’t have the best relationship once Katara heals you.”

“What do you mean?” Lee looked up, the picture of innocence. “Uncle, what’s wrong?”

“I have much to apologize for,” Iroh said. “I’ll say it again once Katara heals you.”

“Okay,” Lee shrugged. “Um…it doesn’t hurt, right?”

“More of a tingly sensation,” Iroh said.

“Will it work on my leg, too?” Lee looked at Katara.

“Um, I think so. How long ago did you break it?” Katara asked.

“I’m not sure,” Lee shrugged. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’ve, um. Got a couple more injuries than that, though. If you wouldn’t mind.”

“I’ll fix them all,” Katara held up the water ball.

Lee looked at Iroh, then at Katara, then at the little assembled crowd. “You’re all going to stare at me _more_ once I’m Zuko again, aren’t you?”

“You still _are_ Zuko,” Iroh said, hugging him.

“Well, at least it’ll be nice to know _why_ you all look at me like that,” Lee shrugged and laid back on the bed.

“Like what?” Katara asked.

“Doesn’t matter,” Lee said. He closed his eyes. “I’ll explain after you fix me.”

Katara pulled her water into shape again and concentrated. She closed her eyes and scanned Zuko. His leg was broken, but still recent enough to be fixable with her healing abilities. He was covered in small cuts and bruises, like a fruit that had gotten jostled around in a box. His ribs weren’t broken (just bruised), but one of the little bones in his wrist was. She smoothed these little hurts out as she went. Just like Iroh, Zuko had a chi blockage around his forehead region. She focused on it.

Zuko’s chi was like the ocean—no, that wasn’t quite right. Zuko’s chi felt like a boat, a huge Fire Nation ship, like the one he’d used to crash through the walls of her village so long ago. The boat was trying to glide through the ocean, but the waters were rocky, and there was a clot of something stuck in the ship’s rudder. It was a much bigger blockage than Iroh had. She poked it, gently, and it didn’t budge. She yanked on it, a little harder, and the rusty machinery turned just slightly. She tried detangling it, but it wouldn’t budge. She resolved to hack it off, but the brute-force approach was clearly going to take some time.

She could hear Aang’s voice. “Is everything okay?”

“It’s different,” she grunted back. “With Iroh, it just slipped away, but here there’s something holding it in place… Zuko, can you try and fight it?”

“Stop,” Zuko mumbled. “Please…”

She opened her eyes. Zuko was unconscious, his face screwed up like he was having a nightmare. She turned to Aang. “Did Iroh do that too?”

“No,” Aang said, eyes wide. “What’s going on?”

“This is going to take a little longer than I thought,” Katara said. She closed her eyes again and felt out the blockage. It had tangled itself even more while she’d stopped working on it. She kept going.

——————————————————————

_Lee wondered if this was what he dreamed about every night._

_You know how in dreams, you can be a different person, with a whole remembered life, and it feels totally natural even though it’s not really you?_

_Zuko was starting to sense that “Lee” was that kind of a dream._

_“Stop. Please,” Zuko said. Someone’s hand was tangled in his hair. His hair was long enough for someone to grab it, and they WERE. It hurt, but not bad enough to be noticeable amongst all the other pains he could feel. His whole body hurt._

_“He’s no use to us like this,” someone said. Their voice made Zuko’s blood run cold._

_“Should we prepare him for the tea shop?” Someone else. It was too dark to see. The air was damp, wet, and cold._

_“Yes…perhaps that will make him more convincing,” the first voice said, and tightened the grip on Zuko’s hair._

_“I’ll never help you,” Zuko gasped out. He could hardly breathe. He pawed weakly at the hand holding his head up. “You’ll never get Azula to agree to it.”_

_“At once, sir,” the second voice said, as if Zuko hadn’t even spoken._

_“We’d better add a failsafe, just in case,” the first voice mused. “Before you set up the influence, block his memory since the day he came to the palace. He knows too much about our plans.”_

_“But he won’t remember a thing once we influence him, sir.” A third voice. How many people were here? Zuko put his hands on the one in his hair and concentrated all of his strength._

_“Even under the influence, half-remembered events can still occasionally provide a certain intuition,” the first voice. “He’s got friends, including the brat you’ve both failed to apprehend. It would be best if we prepared for every eventuality. Wipe as much as you need to make sure he doesn’t remember his time here.”_

_Zuko screamed, and set his hands on fire. The hand dropped him, and his chin crashed into the floor. The air smelled horrible, like burning hair. A familiar smell. He’d used firebending on his hair once before, in Ozai’s prison. He tasted blood in his mouth. He felt a shoe settling on top of his head._

_“He burned me,” the first voice laughed, almost incredulous. “I’m impressed he can still get it up. Wipe a little MORE than the last two weeks, he’s too dangerous to—“_

_Whatever was being said, Zuko missed it as the shoe lifted off of him and kicked him in the side. There were footsteps. There were people on both sides of Zuko, picking him up by his shoulders. He didn’t have the energy for another fire blast. He was moved somewhere. He was sat down in a chair…_

——————————————————————

_Everything was suddenly noise and loudness. Zuko regretted saying anything beyond “I’m fine.” He shouldn’t have tried to interrupt the Fire Lord. Zuko didn’t move from his position on the floor, just in case anyone was throwing fire and needed his face for a target. Uncle was yelling, Aikoyo was doing the not-quite-yelling loud voice guards used on royalty, and Zuko couldn’t make out what anyone was actually saying. All he could catch was Uncle, saying words like “unacceptable” and “shameful” and “completely intolerable,” and then the cell door was opening and Zuko’s heart was beating so fast he thought it was going to beat out of his chest, and then he felt someone’s hand touch his shoulder but he couldn’t breathe, and he couldn’t get air to explain politely, formally, in accordance with protocol that he couldn’t breathe, and he couldn’t bow any lower, his forehead was already on the ground, and his chest seized up but then thankfully, everything went dark and quiet as he passed out._

——————————————————————

Zuko opened his eyes.

“Something is still wrong,” Katara squinted, and pulled her water ball away. He’d gone as stiff as a board under her hands. “How do you feel, Zuko?”

Zuko looked around the room, very slowly, sizing everyone up. “Fine,” he said carefully, through gritted teeth.

“I mean, I know I fixed everything physical, and your chi shouldn’t be blocked anymore, and you can remember who you are, right?” Katara reached out to touch his forehead and he flinched just slightly away. His eyes darted from her, to Iroh, to Aang, all around the room frantically, but he didn’t try to sit up. His hands were clenched into fists and held tightly at his sides.

“…Do you know where you are?” Katara asked.

“…No,” Zuko said quietly, after a long silence. He didn’t say anything else.

“Memory loss,” Katara slapped herself in the forehead. “ _That’s_ what it was…but it’s localized in the Earth Chakra, how would that even happen?”

“Earth Chakra, deals with survival, blocked by fear,” Aang recited.

“I’ll keep trying,” Katara sighed, popping the cork on her waterskin. At the sound, Zuko _visibly_ recoiled, squeezing his eyes shut and somehow getting even tenser.

“Woah,” Toph said. “Okay, that feels…different. What did you do to him?”

“Zuko? Are you okay? Tell me what’s going on,” Katara said.

Zuko kept his eyes shut tight and his hands balled in fists. “Why am I still alive,” he asked quietly. He opened his eyes and stared hollowly at Aang. “If you brought me here to kill me, _do it,_ Avatar,” he grimaced.

“Uh, Katara? What’s happening?” Aang looked worried.

“Something’s happened, I don’t know what. Maybe if we knew when… Zuko, what’s the last thing you remember?” Katara asked.

Zuko looked at her, then at Iroh, then at Aang, then back at her. “Uncle came down to my cell. I interrupted him…” he winced, and pulled his leg up to his chest, feeling it out carefully. “I heard the crack, but…I guess it’s not broken,” Zuko said. He eyed the wrappings on the floor.

“Tui and La,” Katara said, looking up at Aang. “We have a problem.”

——————————————————————

Zuko didn’t know where he was. Either he was still underground or it was nighttime, he wasn’t sure which. And if he _was_ still in Ozai’s private prison, someone had replaced his cell with a remarkable facsimile of a small room, with wooden walls, random junk lying around and stacked on shelves, the bed roll he was sitting on—hardly a bedroom for a Fire Nation prince, but certainly nicer than a cell for a Fire Nation traitor. Father hadn’t provided a bed of _any_ kind. Maybe Uncle had decided something different.

There were _so many people_ in the room with him. Uncle, of course (that is, Fire Lord Iroh), Aikoyo (one of his guards) and he recognized Mai and Ty Lee. Were they prisoners too? Clearly not, because they were talking with someone he could only assume was a Kyoshi Warrior. Also present was the Avatar’s gang, featuring the waterbender, earthbender, and useless nonbender boomerang guy.

Whatever was going on, Zuko was clearly _extremely_ valuable, as he was somehow both uninjured _and_ not in a cell. He couldn’t remember the last time he was both of those things at once…it had been a long time. On the other hand, this claustrophobic room of people was _definitely_ more secure than a cell, any _one_ of them would be strong enough to take Zuko down after he’d been out of the sun for so long. And if he really _was_ that valuable, it didn’t seem likely they’d let him escape, even if both of his legs were functional again.

The waterbender—Katara, if he remembered correctly—said something to him. He looked up at Aikoyo desperately. They were _still_ asking him questions? He wasn’t supposed to talk, he remembered vaguely he was supposed to keep quiet, but they kept asking him questions directly, and he couldn’t _not_ answer them. He’d already missed what she said.

“My sincerest apologies, I didn’t hear you,” Zuko bowed to her. She was the Fire Lord’s friend and he was a prisoner, and he’d never been coached on the appropriate bow for that situation, so he guessed at it and hoped he was correct.

“Do you have any more physical injuries?” Katara asked. “I think I got them all, but I might have missed something. Also, you, um…don’t have to bow.”

Was that how low his status was? He wasn’t even worthy of the _attempt_ to show anyone respect? With any luck, that meant he was going to be ignored, but again, judging from the small crowd in the room, that wasn’t likely. He’d gotten distracted, though. She’d asked him a question. He flexed his fingers, moved his leg a little bit, generally shifted to check if he was hurt anywhere.

“I’m all right,” Zuko said. So he _had_ felt his leg break, it _wasn’t_ just his imagination. Only they’d fixed it just as quickly. Why had they bothered?

“I think we’re at the limits of my healing abilities,” Katara was saying. “Aang, you’ll have to see if you can help him, maybe if you meditated together?”

“I can try,” the Avatar shrugged. “How does that sound, Zuko?”

Zuko looked frantically between the waterbender, Aikoyo, and his uncle. _What_ was the Avatar going to do to him? He’d practiced a little speech to prepare for this… What had he planned to say? “I accept this punishment, and I hope that it will help you to forgive me, and the Fire Nation, for our crimes against you and your people,” Zuko bowed.

“Okay, I do _not_ miss when he was like this,” the water tribe nonbender said. For the life of him, Zuko could not remember that kid’s name. Or understand what he was talking about.

“I have an idea,” the earthbender said. Toph? That seemed right. It sounded like “tough,” that was how he remembered her name. “Okay, Zuko, weird question, but try to answer it, okay?”

Zuko nodded.

“Who do you trust in this room?” Toph asked, gesturing at the little assembled group.

Was this a trick question? Zuko made a valiant attempt to answer it. “I trust the Avatar’s judgment, and that of his friends. I said I was ready to accept my—“

“Not quite,” Toph shook her head. “We get it, you’re traumatized, you’d trust anyone here to kill you. I mean if someone here had to tell you something crazy, who would you believe it from?”

Zuko looked around the room. Kyoshi Warrior—no way, she’d kill him for what he did to her island. Which meant he couldn’t talk to Mai or Ty Lee either, because they were clearly friends with her. The waterbender and her brother also hated him, and most likely so did the Avatar, for hunting them for so long, but maybe Toph would be okay.

Even after he took the Fire Throne, Iroh had never bothered to visit until the Avatar came to the palace, so he couldn’t talk to uncle, either. Uncle was always confusing, anyway. That left Aikoyo, who was nice enough, but took orders from Iroh. She was always honest, and even if she got ordered not to talk about something, she was usually obvious enough about what it was. If Zuko was about to hear something crazy, he’d probably trust Aikoyo was telling the truth, and the earthbender wouldn’t pull any punches if it was something he didn’t want to hear. “You and Aikoyo,” Zuko said, hoping desperately it wasn’t the wrong answer.

“Great,” Toph said. “Okay, everybody else out, Aikoyo and I are gonna explain the last three months to Sparky, _then_ maybe he’ll calm down enough to try and meditate with Aang.”

Three months? What was she talking about?

“What if the Dai Li come back?” Mai asked.

“I’ll sense them and come tell you, but it doesn’t feel like they’re coming,” Toph said.

“I’ll…make everyone some tea. Let’s move into the main shop,” Iroh said, glancing at Zuko nervously. He opened one of the doors, and through it Zuko saw a little tea shop, just like the one he and uncle had in Ba Sing Se. Were they in Ba Sing Se? Everyone filed out, and Aikoyo closed the door behind them.

“Okay, Sparky, how are you _really_ feeling?” Toph asked, settling onto one of the stools. “Just so you know, and this isn’t a threat, I can tell if you’re lying.”

“I…guess I’m fine,” Zuko said, cautiously. “Did Katara really heal me?”

“Yep,” Toph said, “but a _lot_ has happened in the last three months, so the injuries she healed just now aren’t the ones you remember having.”

Zuko closed his eyes for a brief moment, imagining three months of getting beat up by his enemies, and then the firebending-stealing Avatar erasing his memories and the waterbender healing him so they could do it all over again, you never really get used to the feeling of a broken leg but you _can_ get used to the person who breaks it, unless the Avatar doesn’t let you keep your memories…they probably dragged him all over the world, everywhere he’d hurt someone, and let him take his lumps, no _wonder_ the Kyoshi Warrior hadn’t attacked him, maybe she’d already done it a thousand times—

“Woah, woah!” Toph said, holding up her hands. “Your heartbeat is going _crazy._ Whatever you’re thinking, I swear it didn’t happen.”

“How do you know what I’m thinking?” Zuko asked suspiciously.

“You literally spent the first month walking on eggshells alternating between asking someone to hurt you and bracing yourself for it, it’s not hard to guess what you’re thinking right now,” Toph said.

“What do you have to tell me?” Zuko asked. “Am I still a prisoner?”

“That’s difficult to answer,” Aikoyo said. “Technically, you’re not a prisoner, but if you tried to leave right now…I mean, we couldn’t let you. You’ve been in an accident, and you need our help to recover.”

“Okay,” Zuko said, trying not to picture an “accident” that could make him forget _three months?_ “What happened to me?”

“Agni,” Aikoyo sighed. “I wish someone else was here to explain it better. The last thing you remember is—“

“—the first time my uncle came to visit me in my cell, the day the Avatar came,” Zuko finished.

“I guess I should probably start by telling you your uncle isn’t the Fire Lord, and he wasn’t the the Fire Lord _then,_ either,” Aikoyo said.

“…So my sister came back?” Zuko asked.

“No,” Aikoyo looked nervous.

“My father,” Zuko said, and he felt like his heart was going to drop into his stomach.

“Also no,” Aikoyo said. “You—“

“Mai’s family?” Zuko scrunched up his forehead in confusion. “Are they next in line? I don’t remember but I _think_ it’s them—“

“It’s you,” Toph said. “Well—“

“Officially, there _is_ no Fire Lord,” Aikoyo said. “But, um, yes. You’ve been giving orders and sending mail just like you did in prison, only you’re not in prison. You’ve been shouldering the Fire Lord’s responsibilities, especially after Iroh went missing…um…”

“I just saw him,” Zuko said. “He’s not missing.”

“He’s not _now,_ ” Aikoyo said. She looked at Toph. “Help me out, here?”

“Settle in, Sparky,” Toph rubbed her hands together. “It’s kind of a long story.”

——————————————————————

“They’ve been in there a while,” Aang said, biting his lip nervously. “If Zuko doesn’t remember the Sun Warriors temple, is he still afraid of me?”

“I don’t think it’s that he doesn’t remember it,” Katara said, sipping her tea. “It doesn’t feel like he’s been _damaged,_ it feels…blocked up. The Dai Li must have done something to him to block his memory, but I think if we could just un-block it, he’d remember everything, just like Iroh.”

“Which reminds me,” Iroh sighed. “I’ve been here quite a while. Perhaps someone could tell _me_ what I’ve missed, too?”

“What’s the last thing _you_ remember?” Sokka asked. “After Azula burnt down the palace, you went missing. We looked for you _everywhere—“_

“My niece did _what?_ ” Iroh raised an eyebrow. “To answer your question, the last time I saw you, I went into town. There’s a nice tea shop there, and I was hoping to make a mix of Dragon’s Breath and Snap Flowers for Zuko. That was always his favorite. I never made it, I got grabbed off the street…hm. It’s a little fuzzy, but I remember sitting somewhere dark and wet, with a lantern spinning around in circles. And Foman.” His face turned sour. “He checked in on me almost every day. I sat here and served tea like a fool, never once questioning if I was supposed to be somewhere else. I still remember the time I spent in the tea shop, the people I met—I remember _thinking_ I was Mushi. It’s quite a strange sensation.”

“Okay, um…” Sokka counted out events on his fingers. “Azula came back and burned down the palace, she kidnapped Zuko and killed a bunch of people, I went back to rescue Zuko and then he helped us take her down, and then we gave her to some people who said they were therapists, but they turned out to be Dai Li, apparently, but we only just found out, like, yesterday—oh! And Zuko posed as the Fire Lord and we broke my dad and a bunch of people out of Boiling Rock, Zuko and I went shopping, a bunch of assassins broke into the apartment building and tried to assassinate Zuko—“

“Please,” Iroh said, rubbing his forehead. “Please slow down.”

“Oh. Sorry,” Sokka flushed.

“If Iroh remembers being Mushi, how does Zuko not remember being Lee? Minutes ago, he’d insisted he’d never heard of Zuko, and now he doesn’t remember being Lee?” Suki asked.

“The Earth chakra is blocked by fear,” Aang said. “If that’s where the memory loss is coming from…maybe the Dai Li scared him so bad it’s blocking off his memory?”

“I think if you meditate with him, he might be able to get past it,” Katara said.

“Maybe. It might at least help us figure out _how_ the Dai Li blocked his memory,” Aang said. “But if Zuko’s still scared of me, he’s not going to want to meditate with me. Even if we force him into it, it’s not going to work if he thinks it’s a punishment.”

“Then I hope Toph and Aikoyo are doing an excellent job explaining what’s happened,” Mai said in a monotone. Everyone looked at the door to the little back room.

——————————————————————

“It’s a great story,” Zuko said quietly, “but what was the moral?”

“Um,” Aikoyo looked at Toph.

“If you could just tell me straight-out what I’m supposed to do,” Zuko sighed, “that would be great. Please.”

“I guess…hang tight until we can figure out how to fix your memories?” Toph said.

“Okay, and what will you do to me if I try to escape?” Zuko said patiently. “Has the Avatar _really_ never taken prisoners before? You don’t…you don’t tell someone a twenty minute story and not give them the _rules.”_

“Um, please don’t try to escape,” Toph said. “I think we’d have to try and capture you without hurting you _and_ without getting noticed by the Dai Li.”

“Aikoyo, what will they do to me if I try to escape?” Zuko said.

“Katara just healed your leg,” Aikoyo shrugged. “Don’t you think that’s kind of a bad plan for someone who _really_ wants to prevent you from escaping?”

“…Yes,” Zuko said slowly.

“Okay, Aikoyo, this isn’t helping. Zuko, the moral of the story is you’re supposed to trust us enough to mediate with Aang and try to get your memories back,” Toph said.

“Why, so the Avatar can take _my_ bending too?” Zuko snorted.

“Sir, my loyalty is to you before the Avatar,” Aikoyo said, bowing. “If anyone tries to touch you without your consent, I will stop them. If anyone lies to you, I will tell you the truth to the best of my knowledge.”

Zuko considered this. It felt like an act, for his benefit, but it didn’t feel _wrong._ However… “The Avatar or any one of his friends could take you and me both down singlehandedly, Aikoyo. You can’t really offer me “protection” from them.”

“I guess that might be true,” Aikoyo said, “but is the Avatar stupid?”

“No, of course not,” Zuko said.

“Then he _knows_ he’s more powerful than you. If he wanted to hurt you, he would. If any of them wanted to kill you, they would. Doesn’t it mean something that they _haven’t_ done those things? Why would it benefit _anyone_ to make up such a long, complex story about you?” Aikoyo tried.

“I can’t remember if they’ve tried those things,” Zuko blanched.

“That’s a fair point,” Aikoyo looked up at Toph again.

“Honestly, I’d suggest we let him sleep alone tonight to prove he’s safe and _could_ escape if he wanted to, but I’m worried he _will_ escape and get caught by the Dai Li and _hidden_ this time,” Toph said. “Zuko, if you’ve got any ideas about how we can prove to you we’re your friends, let’s hear ‘em.”

Zuko thought carefully. “Tell me what happened to my hair. Who burnt it? Was it me?”

“Darn it. Um, I have no idea, because it was longer _before_ you went to visit Azula and you’ve been missing for three weeks,” Toph said.

“Wait!” Aikoyo said, sitting up. “I’ve got something.” She reached into one of her pockets and pulled out a scroll. “Read this. Do you recognize the handwriting?”

“It’s scrap paper,” Zuko said, unrolling it. “A grocery list, some notes about…is there really a general trying to barricade the colonies? Is that… That’s _my_ handwriting…”

“I kept it because it had the shopping list on it,” Aikoyo shrugged. “The note is out of date by now, you already spoke to General Ikoru in person about it.”

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Zuko frowned. “The only reason I was having council meetings at _all_ was because the Fire Lord—I mean, because uncle wanted me to practice politics. If he was really missing, why would I have kept going? I don’t want to be the Fire Lord, I’m not _supposed_ to be the Fire Lord…”

“No, you’ve got it right, you didn’t want to be the Fire Lord,” Aikoyo said. “But people kept sending letters asking for your advice, and you kept writing back, and it just kind of…happened.”

“That’s not how you become the Fire Lord,” Zuko said.

“Like she told ya before,” Toph smiled. “There _is no Fire Lord._ ”

“Not officially, anyway,” Aikoyo corrected.

“Well…I believe that this is too stupid a story to be made up just to keep me here,” Zuko said.

“Well, that’s a good enough start,” Toph shrugged.

——————————————————————

If they had limits or rules other than “don’t escape,” Zuko had yet to find them. He’d said he was thirsty, and Toph opened the little door to the tea shop. Everyone else was in there, a small crowd drinking tea. Zuko walked in with them (no one stopped him or tried to restrain him) and grabbed someone’s cup off the table (no one told him not to) and drank it. It was Jasmine tea. This earned him some weird looks, but no one told him to stop.

“What’s the problem?” Zuko asked.

“It doesn’t taste weird to you?” Sokka asked.

“Should it?” Zuko asked. He’d taken someone else’s half-empty cup specifically to prevent anyone from trying to poison or drug him. It tasted fine, like normal Jasmine tea.

“You know, like sleeping drugs?” Sokka asked.

“Are you taking sleeping drugs?” Zuko asked.

“That was after,” Katara said, and touched Sokka’s arm.

“I guess so,” Sokka frowned. Zuko finished drinking the tea. Then he went into the back room (slowly, in case someone wanted to follow him, but no one did) and sat in the corner near the door, so he could hear them talking but they wouldn’t be able to see him. No one commented on this or tried to stop him. Probably just because they could see the back door, and knew Zuko wasn’t trying to escape. Zuko leaned his head against the wall and tried to listen to their conversation. They talked about him for a little while, keeping up the same ridiculous story Toph and Aikoyo had tried to tell him, and then they talked about Iroh, and they told stories about when Iroh was teaching Aang how to firebend. Apparently Mai, Ty Lee, and Suki were curious about it. Zuko tried to shove down his feelings of jealousy—it should have been _him_ helping the Avatar, not stuck in prison while uncle did his job for him. Zuko had planned to become a good person. Redeem himself, restore his _own_ honor. Sitting in prison isn’t redeeming yourself, it’s just…sitting.

Shit. He realized he hadn’t seen Mai since he left her a letter breaking up with her the same day he got himself imprisoned. She didn’t seem mad, though. It _seemed_ like she was dating Ty Lee, based on the everything-about-her, so that was…interesting. He’d kind of hoped she might still care about him, and that she just didn’t _know_ he was in prison under the palace, but apparently, that wasn’t the case.

He didn’t plan to fall asleep. He was going to stay awake until they all stopped talking, and then try to escape, obviously. Never-getting-to-see-the-sun had its advantages, in that he was _much_ better at staying awake when it was dark, now. Except apparently, it had been months since then, and his body was used to sunlight again. He could even make little flames in his hands—he hadn’t been able to do that for a while. All this to say that his body betrayed him. It was dark, and he was tired. He fell asleep while they were still having tea and laughing, and he was tucked up in the corner of the room. Bamboo walls were _much_ softer than stone, he was pleased to discover.

——————————————————————

Zuko dreamed of a lantern, going around and around in circles in the dark. Someone poked him in the side—he thought it might have been Ty Lee from the way he started to go numb there, but some part of him knew it wasn’t her. His chest hurt, like he’d been coughing too long, or like he’d been stabbed with a hundred little needles, or like—

——————————————————————

Zuko blinked awake at sunrise. He rubbed his chest. It felt fine. So it was just a dream—but they _did_ say they’d had the waterbender heal all his injuries, so maybe it _wasn’t_ a dream, and he _did_ have some kind of pain that he just couldn’t remember.

He squinted his eyes shut and tried to focus. That train of thought was going nowhere, and paranoia was only going to make his situation worse. Sometimes, trust is a choice. He chose to believe it was just a dream. He chose to stay where he was, even though it would have been _really easy_ to escape.

He was a little stiff from sleeping in the corner, but he was still getting used to the “not in prison anymore” thing and it was comforting to be able to touch the walls and feel a little bit safer. People were stretched out all over the room, sleeping on the blanket, bed roll, floor, and even the table. Everyone was pretty much still asleep, except for Aikoyo (she was putting on her boots near the back door) and Iroh, who was humming to himself near the wall of jars.

Zuko stood up from the corner, shuffling around just enough so the awake-people would notice him but not _so_ much as to wake anyone who was still sleeping. The Avatar was sleeping not even five feet away from him. The _Avatar,_ stealer-of-firebending, the guy who he’d literally spent _years_ hunting across the world, was sleeping _not even five feet away from him_ and snoring, mouth wide open, totally vulnerable.

“Good morning,” Iroh whispered.

Zuko bowed quietly in response, then remembered they told him last night that Iroh _wasn’t_ the Fire Lord and that the bowing made people uncomfortable, then realized he’d been stuck in the wrong position for too long and straightened up too quickly.

Iroh held out a tea cup towards Aikoyo, who shook her head. She jerked her head at the back door, and slipped out.

“She’s going for a run,” Iroh whispered. He’d only made two cups of tea—one for him, one for Aikoyo. Zuko knew that Uncle _said_ he wasn’t angry, but he’d only made two cups of tea. Iroh gestured at the door to the tea shop. Zuko nodded, and quietly followed him through it.

Iroh closed the door behind them with a soft _click,_ then let out a deep breath. “They’ve had so much trouble in their lives, I can never begrudge them another morning to sleep in.”

“I thought you trained the Avatar to firebend,” Zuko said. “The best time to train is at sunrise.”

“Firebending is different for everyone,” Iroh shrugged. “I’ve heard _you_ learned from the masters at the Sun Warriors Temple.”

“I heard the same,” Zuko said. He sat down at one of the tables. Iroh sat across from him, sipping his tea. Iroh watched Zuko watch him drink his tea. After a few moments, he set the cup down.

“I know that look,” Iroh sighed. “What have I done this time?”

“You’re angry with me?” Zuko said. He meant it as a calm statement of fact, but it came out like a question.

“Not at all,” Iroh frowned, leaning forward. He held out his hand, as if he was going to touch Zuko’s shoulder, then he pulled back.

“Why are you acting like it, then?” Zuko growled. He didn’t mean to sound so angry, but once it started coming out he couldn’t stop it. “You don’t look at me, you don’t touch me, you stop talking and stare at me, and you didn’t even offer me any of your tea.”

“I’m…I’m sorry,” Iroh bowed his head. “I didn’t realize you’d want it.”

“Just because it all tastes like leaf juice doesn’t mean I don’t want it, Uncle,” Zuko flushed, still angry. “When have I _ever_ told you I don’t want your tea?”

“You don’t remember it,” Iroh said quietly, staring into his tea cup. “I…I’m surprised the Dai Li could make me forget it. It was…memorable.”

“Maybe I was just angry, Uncle,” Zuko said. “I can’t apologize, I don’t even remember what happened.”

“I’m the one who should apologize,” Iroh said, “But I can’t. You don’t even remember what I’ve done.”

“I forgive you, Uncle,” Zuko said. “For whatever it was. I guess you _weren’t_ avoiding me and…stuff, like I thought… I know you love me.”

“Please don’t say that,” Iroh whispered. “You have the same look on your face as you did when…” Iroh went white.

“I’ll make you some tea,” Iroh said, standing up.

“Okay,” Zuko said. Iroh disappeared into the back room and reappeared with spice and flowers and salt, and another tea cup.

“I’ll mix it out here,” Iroh said. “Don’t want to wake anyone.”

“Yeah,” Zuko said.

“I do love you,” Iroh said, grinding up some of the ingredients. “I didn’t mean to imply that I don’t. You’re like a son to me. I… I’m not sure what to say.”

“Yeah,” Zuko said, watching Iroh’s hands move. It was easier than making eye contact. “…I think I know what you meant. I didn’t mean to look at you like…that.”

“Your father, my brother, left an impact that will never truly leave any of the people he touched,” Iroh said. “I hope I can prove to you that I would never treat you the same way, and that you, if you wished to be, would be nothing like him as a Fire Lord.”

“…Can I say something?” Zuko said. “I just…I don’t want to put it on you, I just want to say it and have it out of me, and then we don’t have to talk about it…” He felt like there was a pressure on his chest, the things he needed to say weighing him down.

“You can say anything to me,” Iroh said.

“I, um.” Zuko gulped and stared at the wood grain on the table. Focus on the shapes, not on uncle’s face. “Right after the Day of Black Sun, I…um, I tried to escape. A lot. I was getting really good at it, I’d probably be even better now, I know every square inch of the place…um, that’s not the point.”

Zuko took a deep breath and steadied himself. _Just say it, and once it’s in the open, it’ll seem ridiculous, and then you don’t have to think about it anymore._ “Father sent someone to break my leg so I’d stop trying. It was just some random general who wanted to prove his loyalty to my father. He didn’t even come down himself, you know? He just ordered it, I guess. I assumed, because the guy said something about him while he was…you know.”

It was getting harder to breathe without shaking, harder to blink without crying. _Keep it together._ “When I thought you were the Fire Lord, and that you were ignoring me, I guess I worried you also stopping caring about me, like he did. So when you came down, I thought “Wow. That’s proof, he really _does_ care about me.” Um. Father never visited. So. And it’s all…fuzzy, because I was passing out, I guess, but I felt the same pain that my leg was breaking, and I just…you came to do it in person, you know? I know it’s dumb, and that the “suffering will be your teacher” thing was my _dad,_ not you, but…”

Zuko _was_ sniffling now. He kept staring at the table. “I thought, “he didn’t give up on me. He still cares enough to break my leg in person.” I…I woke up here, yesterday, and I was still thinking it.”

Zuko scrubbed at his eyes with his sleeve. “But my leg’s _not_ broken, and you’re _not_ the Fire Lord, and…I don’t know. It sounds dumb now, I know.”

“May I hug you?” Iroh was tearing up, Zuko saw, but still a distance away.

“Why do you have to ask?” Zuko sobbed, letting the tears flow. “What did I say to you?”

Iroh didn’t respond, he just swopped down and held Zuko in his arms. Zuko just cried and cried, hoping vaguely that he wasn’t being loud enough to wake the Avatar and his friends, but too wrung out to care. Iroh was crying too, but it was okay. He smelled like the tea shop in Ba Sing Se…but it felt like him. They hugged and Zuko felt like every nerve ending was on fire, like he hadn’t been really _hugged_ in months. The last physical contact he’d had in prison was the leg-breaking, and thinking about that started him crying again. They hugged until they were cried-out, and then they sat back at the table, closer together this time. Zuko wiped at his face with his sleeves. He was going to have to change his robes before anyone else woke up.

“I’m afraid your tea has gotten cold,” Iroh smiled, handing the cup to Zuko.

“Oh,” Zuko said, taking the cup. He concentrated on his inner fire, willing the flames to come to his hands…

He got a little puff of flame, then nothing. The tea remained cold.

“Are you all right?” Iroh asked, heating his own cup.

Zuko scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “Yeah, I just…I don’t even remember the last time I meditated, this is the first time I’ve even _seen_ the sun in weeks…I mean, that I remember,” Zuko ran his fingers through his singed-short hair.

“Ah,” Iroh nodded. “Now _this,_ I can help you with. Come out to the front, before the others wake up.”

Zuko held his tea cup and followed Iroh out the front of the shop. The sun was starting to climb even higher into the sky, Agni’s rays spreading out like a blanket over everything. It was warm, _really_ warm…and nice. Comfortable. His body remembered the sunlight, but firebending is about the chi, and he felt like he hadn’t stood in the sun in months. He closed his eyes.

He felt the tea cup starting to bubble in his hands. He opened his eyes. It was boiling. He looked down. He’d set himself fully on fire, without even noticing, like a little kid that doesn’t have any training or control. It was embarrassing.

Iroh put his hand on Zuko’s shoulder, and Zuko didn’t even flinch. He just looked up, stared at Iroh like he was suspicious he was about to get teased for his fiery outburst, then smiled and leaned his head against Iroh’s shoulder.

“Whatever I said, whatever I did to you,” Zuko said. His fire began to die down as he got used to the sensation of having it again. “I’m sorry. I know I can’t really _mean_ it properly, because I don’t even know what I’m saying it for…”

“You’ll restore your memories,” Iroh said, hugging him close. “I can only hope you’ll still want to talk to me when you do.”

“I missed this. I missed you,” Zuko said, closing his eyes and hugging his tea cup close to his chest. “Even if I never get my memories back, _this is me._ We’re family. The _good_ kind of family. I’d never _really_ hate you.”

Iroh just held him close and didn’t respond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter came out a little late because I was HELLA sad this week. Someone get me to a middle school math classroom with a dry erase marker and clear sheet of plastic, because I PROJECTED this week. So many scraps of story that I ended up cutting out, I literally cut three scenes that were just "I cried in my room for an hour/laid on the floor and cried/etc. then wrote a scene where zuko does the same thing" 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you liked the update! This isn't a "zuko is brainwashed by the dai li" fic, I wasn't gonna let Lee stick around! No, of course not, this is a "zuko in prison" fic, OBVIOUSLY, ha ha. All that character development of however-many-thousand words in the TRASH! Don't worry, like Katara says, the memories are still there, just blocked. Zuko can have his memories back AFTER hes worked through some shit. Y'all don't even KNOW what happened during his two-week Dai Li vacation... See you in another 10k words or so!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little bit longer than usual! Enjoy :)
> 
> Okay, so...this is the point at which I would maybe click "Graphic Depictions of Violence," but it isn't EXACTLY graphic...I decided to keep the "Creator Chose Not to Use Warnings" but be aware we're about to get into some different territory. "Depictions of Violence," I'd say.
> 
> Trigger warnings: needles, abuse, starvation
> 
> I've never really tagged for trigger warnings before, please let me know if there is a more effective or better way to do it.

“I guess I know a _little_ about the Dai Li,” Zuko said. Once everyone finished waking up, they gathered in the tea shop for breakfast—except for Toph, would was outside keeping a lookout to make sure there weren’t any agents approaching. “I remember my sister was working with them in Ba Sing Se…and Mai told me a little about them before the Day of Black Sun. I guess I assumed that if they cared about me at all, it would be because of my sister, but I figured Long Feng would try to kill me, not…”brainwash” me, I don’t really know what that is.”

“Long Feng is out of the picture,” Katara coughed.

“Are you sure?” Zuko frowned. “How do you know?”

“I’m sure,” Katara said, looking away.

“Okay,” Zuko shrugged. “But yeah, Long Feng—um, the Dai Li—they’re the only ones I can think of who’d want to kill me, present company not included.”

“Why would they want to kill you?” Sokka asked.

“I figured at some point Azula would want me out of the way,” Zuko said. “I know you guys said we were starting to be “friends” again, but we haven’t been close since we were little. _Really_ little. The last time I remember seeing her, she gave me this.” Zuko lifted up his shirt to reveal a star-shaped lightning scar on his stomach.

“Woah,” Aang said. “She hit you with lightning? And you _survived?_ I needed special magic water on _top_ of Katara’s healing abilities.”

“I tried redirecting it, but I couldn’t walk on my leg, and there wasn’t really anywhere to move around in the cell—“

“You told me about that,” Mai said. “Earlier that day, Ty Lee and I tried to rescue you, and Azula caught us. We were sent to Boiling Rock, and she went down and attacked you. She wasn’t mad at _you_ , she was mad at us. If it makes any difference.”

“You did that for me?” Zuko looked up. “Mai, I’m so sorry I tried to break up with you in a letter—“

“You apologized,” Mai said. “I forgave you. We’re cool.”

“And you’re dating Ty Lee now. I’m happy for you,” Zuko nodded.

“How can you tell?” Sokka looked at Zuko confused.

“Are you kidding? Look at them, how can you _not_ tell?” Zuko gestured at Mai and Ty Lee, who were sitting near each other, but not touching. They looked exactly the same as they did before they started dating.

“Anyway,” Katara rolled her eyes, “I _hate_ to interrupt, but this conversation is supposed to be about collecting everything we know about the Dai Li so we can figure out how to restore Zuko’s memories.”

“Does anyone want a lemon scone?” Iroh asked, emerging from the back room.

“OOH! Me!” Sokka yelped.

——————————————————————

“I guess we could sit down here,” Aang said. “Would you rather be outside or inside?”

“Anywhere is fine,” Zuko said, glancing around nervously. They were in the back room of the tea shop. Everyone else stayed in the main store, to give them a little privacy to meditate.

“But which would you _rather_?” Aang asked.

“I said I was fine here, didn’t I?” Zuko snapped.

“Okay, okay, you just don’t seem very relaxed,” Aang held up his hands.

“…Of _course_ I’m not relaxed,” Zuko said. “I know we’re supposed to be friends now…you’re not really treating me how I thought you would, I mean… I mean, a year ago, my purpose in life was hunting you down.”

“And now we’re friends!” Aang smiled.

“…You can take away peoples’ bending,” Zuko said. “That’s…I don’t even know how to _explain_ how wrong that is—“

“You tried,” Aang blushed uncomfortably. “I didn’t know it would be so terrifying to the Fire Nation. I just wanted to stop Ozai from hurting anyone else.”

  
“And he needed to be stopped,” Zuko nodded. “…This is just weird for me.”

“It’ll be less weird when you have your memories again!” Aang said. “So where would you rather try and meditate, here, or outside?”

“Um…outside? No, here…wait,” Zuko faltered.

“It won’t work unless you’re relaxed,” Aang said.

“I’m _trying_ to be,” Zuko growled.

“Do you want some calming tea? I could ask Iroh to—“

“I don’t _NEED any calming tea!!!”_ Zuko yelled, then winced.

“I’m not trying to be scary, I promise,” Aang said, sitting on the ground. “I really just want to help.”

“I know,” Zuko said. He took a few deep breaths and closed his eyes. _Don’t think about the Avatar killing you, don’t think about the Avatar killing you…think about happy things, like turtleducks and sunshine and…and…just don’t think about the Avatar, and calm down._

Trying to relax wasn’t going to work. He’d need to meditate privately for hours just to be in the same _room_ as Aang and not freak out. So he felt guilty for falling back on what he _knew_ wasn’t a good coping mechanism (especially after everyone had been so nice, and they were clearly trying not to bother him) but he worked through the problem logically: If the Avatar wanted to kill him, Zuko couldn’t stop him, so there was no point worrying about it. If the Avatar wanted to kill him, it would be justice after the things Zuko had done, so it would be okay. And if the Avatar took his bending, Zuko could always kill himself later. It wasn’t a _happy_ train of thought, but it was a familiar one, and it helped dissipate a little bit of the tension he was feeling. _No point worrying about things you can’t control._

Zuko sat on the ground, across from Aang. “I’m fine here,” he said, and he meant it.

“Okay,” Aang said. “So, we’re going to try a few exercises to see if you can figure out why you can’t remember the last three months.”

Zuko nodded.

“Close your eyes.”

Zuko did.

“Put your palms face-up on your knees,” Aang said.

_Palms down, that’s how you prove you aren’t a threat,_ a little voice whispered in Zuko’s head. _If he thinks you’re trying to firebend, he’ll kill you._

Zuko took a deep breath, let it out, and put his palms face-up on his knees.

“I’m going to touch your hands now,” Aang said. Zuko felt Aang draw a straight line from his right wrist all the way down his middle finger. Then he repeated it on the left hand.

“There are seven chakras that go up the body. Each pool of energy has a purpose,” Aang recited. “The Earth Chakra is located at the base of the spine. It deals with survival, and is blocked by fear.” Aang traced a circle on each of Zuko’s palms, one and then the other.

“I’m not an earthbender,” Zuko said, squeezing his eyes tighter. “Shouldn’t we be working on the Fire Chakra?”

“This is where Katara said the root of the problem is,” Aang said. “Think about your greatest fears…and allow them to flow away.”

Zuko went stiff and rigid, eyes still closed. He didn’t relax. “That was way too fast.”

“Just…let them flow away,” Aang said, “like you’re pulling weeds out of a blocked pond.”

“I can’t,” Zuko opened his eyes and turned his hands palm-down. It was all he could do not to ball them up into fists. “You’re going too fast. I barely had time to think about what I’m afraid of before you told me to let it go.”

“Sorry,” Aang said. “Take your time.”

They sat in silence for a few moments. Zuko scrunched up his forehead in concentration. “This isn’t working,” he said. “Great meditation, Avatar. I’m all better. Where’d you learn _this?”_

“I’ll think of something else,” Aang said. “I’ve never really _had_ much trouble with the Earth Chakra before.”

“Of course you haven’t,” Zuko sighed, uncrossing his legs and slouching. “You’re the _Avatar._ What could you possibly be scared of?”

“I used to be scared of _you_ ,” Aang said.

“I doubt it,” Zuko snorted. “At best, I was an annoyance. I was never a _threat._ Remember the North Pole? “ Zuko shivered and hugged his legs to his chest.

“…That’s a long story,” Aang said awkwardly. “I don’t really do that anymore.”

“ _That’s_ something I’m afraid of. That giant _monster_ reached down and grabbed Zhao, and there was nothing I could do to save him. Even if he’d taken my hand, I couldn’t have helped him. I was just lucky I didn’t get grabbed too. That would have been it, you know? Drowning in icy waters, never going home again…at least Ozai’s prison was _warm.”_ Zuko looked at the ground, lost in thought.

“You didn’t die in the North Pole,” Aang said. “Think about how scared you were…and then, try to let it go. You’re not there anymore, you’re here.”

Zuko closed his eyes and took a few shuddery breaths. Then his breathing started to even out. He sat up a little bit, returning to the meditating position.

“Keep going,” Aang said quietly. “Think about what you’re afraid of. It’s okay to get lost in those fears for a little while, because when you come out the other side, you’re going to try and release them.”

“…Will you keep talking to me?” Zuko asked, still with his eyes closed.

“Of course,” Aang smiled.

“I see…uh, you, taking my bending. You…put your hand in my chest, and pull it out…you crush it under your foot…” Zuko was shaking, just slightly.

“Make a little fire in your hand,” Aang said. “You have your bending. I’d never take it away. It’s a part of you, and it will never disappear.”

Zuko’s hands flared up with a blast of flame, and Aang leaned back to avoid getting burned.

“Sorry,” Zuko said, peeking at Aang. “I’m still getting used to bending again, I don’t have as much control as I used to—“

“It’s rainbow,” Aang gasped. “Look! That’s dragon fire!”

“Dragon fire?” Zuko looked down at his hands. The fire was, indeed, a swirl of colors he’d never made before. “I don’t understand. I thought there weren’t any more dragons…but that’s not true,” Zuko said slowly, feeling a tug at the edges of his memory. “There’s…there’s at least two more, the firebending masters at the Sun Warriors temple…”

“We went there together,” Aang smiled. “Do you remember?”

“I couldn’t walk,” Zuko said. “I was…moving rocks?”

“Don’t try to force it, just let the memories come back,” Aang said. “It’s starting to work. Think about your fears one at a time, and let them slip away. When you finish unblocking the Earth Chakra, you should remember everything, even the stuff you did here in the tea shop.”

Zuko doused his flame and tried to focus.

_Kyoshi Island is on fire. Zuko is on his knees in the middle of the village. A woman in green holds a sword to his neck. The people watching are cheering._

_Zuko is in the Cooler at Boiling Rock. His blood runs sluggish and cold, and he can barely move._

_He sits across from Aang in this tea shop, and Aang drags his firebending out of him, bit by painful bit. The worst part of it is that Zuko lets him do it. He doesn’t fight back._

_Zuko looks up at someone’s fist. It doesn’t matter who’s on the other side (Aang, Katara, a Kyoshi Warrior, his father). Maybe the hand is on fire, maybe it isn’t. Maybe it holds a weapon, maybe it doesn’t. Time is frozen in the horrible moment before the blow hits him in the face._

Zuko took a deep breath, and let it out in a whoosh of flame. He let go of as much as he could, facing the fears head-on and watching them evaporate. It was like the day he told his father to fuck off, but this time, he wasn’t going to end up in prison. He was starting to feel a prickly feeling in his skull, almost a tickling sensation, sort of like when your ears are ringing but for his thoughts, sort of like pins-and-needles on his brain. He remembered the Sun Warriors Temple. He remembered a ball of blue lightning cracking around him but not touching him. He remembered lying on the ground, looking up at an assassin getting stabbed by Mai. He remembered shopping in the Caldera marketplace.

_“Shut up,” a voice said. “I grow weary of this.”_

_“I’ll never shut up,” Zuko spat blood on the ground. “I will never surrender to you.”_

_“Choices have consequences,” the voice said._

Zuko blinked his eyes open. “It’s…starting to work, I think,” he said.

“Why did you stop?” Aang looked quizzical. “Is something wrong?”

“I…I’m feeling this…There’s something there, something I can’t remember…I don’t know what it is. I don’t know what it looks like, I don’t know how to let go of it,” Zuko flushed.

“It’s okay to feel frustrated,” Aang said, looking like the very picture of a meditating Avatar with his hands folded in his lap.

“I don’t _feel_ frustrated,” Zuko said. “I can _feel_ there’s fear, I just don’t know what it is.”

“Try and describe it,” Aang said.

_“Shut up,” a voice said. “I grow weary of this.”_

“It’s…wet. Damp,” Zuko said, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. “Cold like underground, not cold like nighttime.”

“Is it Ozai’s prison?” Aang asked.

“No,” Zuko said. “It’s too wet. The palace is dry, this is…there’s water, somewhere, the air feels _wet_ and it’s hard to firebend.”

“Keep talking,” Aang said. “Examine what you’re feeling.”

“But…it’s not hard to firebend because of the wetness,” Zuko said, concentrating. “I’ve…been kept out of the sun for long enough that my inner fire is starting to flicker.”

_“Choices have consequences,” the voice said._

“I’m not supposed to talk,” Zuko said. “I don’t remember why—“

“Try to focus on what you _can_ remember,” Aang said.

“There’s…consequences. I don’t know what it means, but…everything hurts, but somehow I know it can get worse,” Zuko said.

“Look within yourself and examine it,” Aang said. “Take every piece of it apart until you’re not afraid of it anymore.”

Zuko took a deep breath. He was safe. He was in a wooden room, and he could see the sun, feel its warmth. His inner fire was strong—he could protect himself. His uncle was here, Aikoyo was here, he was among friends. He didn’t _have_ to protect himself, he could just sit here and drink tea until he got his memories back, and no one would rush him or try to tell him to stop. He grasped at the edges of that weird, cold, wet place, and threw it away. _It doesn’t matter to me anymore,_ he thought.

Something shifted just slightly. Like missing the last step as you walk down the stairs and everything goes crystal clear for a split second. Like a find-the-picture puzzle and you already know where all the hidden pictures are. Like an optical illusion that you’ve been staring at, trying to figure it out, and then all of a sudden you see it.

“How are you feeling _now,_ Zuko?” Aang asked. “Zuko?”

——————————————————————

**THREE WEEKS EARLIER**

——————————————————————

Azula watched out her window as Zuko walked down the cobblestone path, followed by Foman and _far_ too many agents, not that Zuko noticed. He was walking into town. Good. She wanted him gone; having him around made it too difficult to focus on controlling the Dai Li. She wanted him to stay; when he was there, she’d actually felt like he still cared about her, like everything he’d said back when it was just the two of them in the palace _meant_ something. But it didn’t matter what she wanted, because Zuko was leaving…

Foman walked back up towards the palace, and the agents slipped out of sight. Azula knew what to look for, though. The ground shifted under Zuko’s feet, grabbing at one of his ankles and pulling him down. Apparently, Foman had decided Zuko was staying. She’d have to talk to Foman later, he was starting to take _too much_ initiative, but she could forgive this. Zuko would stay in the room next to hers, and they would talk through the walls at night, like when they were little kids.

The agents picked Zuko up off the ground, and Azula noticed that Zuko was _hurt._ His leg was working fine when he’d sat with her, but not anymore. Now _that_ was no way to treat a Prince of the Fire Nation, Azula snorted. She was _definitely_ going to have some words with Foman about this. She returned to the couch and arranged herself perfectly, waiting for them to escort Zuko back into her room. They did not.

She went back to the window. There was no one outside (at least, not that she could see). She couldn’t hear anything in the hallway, either. She assumed Zuko was being moved into some grand bedroom halfway across the palace. Palaces were too big, always too many rooms to get lost in. That was why she’d so carefully pruned down the _old_ palace, no one needed all that sprawling empty space. Why call a construction crew when she could take care of it _faster?_ But Zuko wouldn’t like if she did that to _this_ palace too, he’d gotten so upset about all the people who’d happened to get hurt the first time. Ordering Foman to move Zuko closer would have to do, for now. She moved towards the door and pulled the cord to summon him.

After a short time, he appeared, not a hair out of place. “Is there something I can do for you, Azula?” Foman asked.

“Yes,” Azula said. “Where is my brother?”

“I believe he said he was going into town,” Foman said.

“So he did,” Azula said. “Where is he, then?”

“I can only assume, in town,” Foman said, lying directly to her face. Now _that_ was interesting. Why would Foman hide the fact that he’d moved Zuko into the palace? Unless he and Zuko were working together, trying to…no, that didn’t make any sense, Zuko wasn’t the type to join secret conspiracies.

“Have him moved to the room next to mine,” Azula sighed, clearly indicating that she _knew_ Zuko wasn’t in town.

“If and when he returns, it shall be done,” Foman bowed.

“Did I _say_ “if,” Foman?” Azula snapped. “He’s here in the palace, and I want him closer to me. I should be able to hear him through the wall,” she gestured. “Dismissed.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” Foman said slowly.

“Why ever not? And please, lie to me again, I’d _love_ to see you try,” Azula smiled graciously, lighting up her palm with blue flame.

“I’ve had him moved out of the way,” Foman said.

“Did I _ask_ you to do that?” Azula grinned, and let a little bit of lightning spark free.

“You didn’t. It was necessary,” Foman said.

“ _Do_ explain why, or I will kill you,” Azula said, smiling as sweetly as a tiger-leopard.

“The Dai Li are loyal to you,” Foman said. “We are loyal to _Fire Lord_ Azula, not your brother. He gives orders like a naive fool, and what else could anyone expect? He spent the end of the war in a cell while _you_ were on the front lines, fighting for and then _ruling_ the Fire Nation.”

“I’d be careful how you insult my brother, if I were you,” Azula frowned.

“ _You_ should be Fire Lord,” Foman said. “Now that Zuko is secure, neither he nor your uncle could stop you.”

“Not that I’m arguing,” Azula said, “but _why,_ exactly, would the Dai Li want _me_ on the throne?”

“Your father had a vision that the whole world would be united under the Fire Throne,” Foman said. “His plans failed because he refused to accept a partnership that would have been advantageous to him. He needed to be “Phoenix King,” and rule the world alone…” Foman laughed. “Imagine all four nations united as one, under your leadership. No more Fire Nation, no more Fire Lord, just… _Lord._ You give orders, and the Dai Li would enforce them and maintain order,” Foman said.

Azula laughed.

“You understand the brilliance of the idea,” Foman said.

“I _do_ understand,” Azula laughed. “ _I’m_ the one who’s been a fool. When I took the Earth King away from you, it really upset the Dai Li, didn’t it? You want the same situation in Ba Sing Se back again, me as the “official” ruler and yourselves holding the _actual_ power.”

“Was it truly so bad in Ba Sing Se?” Foman glared. “Orderly, organized…you would never notice my influence. You would be an excellent Queen.”

“Interesting idea. Bring my brother in here, and we’ll talk about it,” Azula said.

“That won’t be possible,” Foman said. “We need you to be the face of the new world.”

“And I said, bring Zuko in here, and I’ll _consider_ it,” Azula snapped.

“Not good enough,” Foman shook his head. “I have a plan to implement the invasion of the other nations and set you up as the first queen in a long dynasty. Zuko will remain in Dai Li custody to prevent him from interfering…and to ensure your participation.”

“I _order_ you to release my brother,” Azula said.

“And obviously, I lied when I said the Dai Li are loyal to you. We will talk later, Azula,” Foman bowed. “Consider what I’ve said.”

——————————————————————

The agents picked Zuko up from the cobblestone path and carried him into the seaside palace, down into a different wing from Azula’s, down a staircase.

When they came to the end of a long hallway and opened a locked door with a soft _click,_ Zuko realized what was happening. The little firebender was a ball of rage and flame. They dropped him, but even landing on his broken leg he didn’t stop attacking them. He screamed and fire blasted through the hall. They had some trouble subduing him—even unable to stand, even after they managed to pin his arms behind his back with earthbending, Zuko set himself on fire and they couldn’t pick him up again. Someone finally managed to launch a rock into the side of Zuko’s head, knocking him out and extinguishing the flames.

They picked him back up and carried him through the door. It led into a tunnel, which led underground. The path was illuminated by torches. Eventually, they made it through the labyrinth of rock to a small cavern. The Dai Li had fitted it with three small cells, each containing cuffs set into the walls and floor. Zuko was placed in one of the cells, with his right wrist chained to the wall. They locked the door and waited for Foman.

——————————————————————

“I’m told you’re quite the little annoyance,” Foman said. He sat on the cave floor, across from Zuko in the makeshift cell.

“And I _know_ you’re a massive dickhead,” Zuko scowled, pulling on the chain that locked him in place. “Let me go, or I’ll set this whole place on fire.”

“Oh, my mistake, this is my first time trying to keep a firebender prisoner,” Foman deadpanned. “Go ahead, by all means.”

Zuko squinted his eyes shut and screamed. Fire blasted out of his mouth, dissipating almost as quickly as it appeared.

“The interior of these tunnels has never seen the light of day,” Foman said, “and it’s far too damp in here for you to firebend at any _real_ distance. But that was an impressive trick, lighting yourself on fire, back in the hallway,” Foman said, leaning forward. “Won’t you do it again? Or will you burn yourself heating up the chain and the wall before you get free? And you can’t walk, so I don’t imagine you’ll get far.”

“Whatever you want, you won’t get it,” Zuko snarled. “If you release me and my sister now, I’ll consider going easy on you at your trial.”

“I’m shaking, I truly am,” Foman said. “I must say, you’re very different than I would have expected, based on the reports. You’re angry, tough, _loud…_ was that what you were like before Ozai broke you?”

“You haven’t heard anything yet if you think _that_ was loud,” Zuko snorted. “ _I’ll tear you into a billion pieces!_ ”

“If you don’t mind, these little outbursts are interfering with our conversation,” Foman sighed. “How long did Ozai keep you under the palace? I need specifics.”

“…Why?” Zuko asked, frowning. “I won’t tell you anything. Let me _go._ ”

“I guess you might not know, without the sun to track it by,” Foman shook his head sadly. “A shame. I was genuinely curious.”

“Why would you care?” Zuko snapped. “I broke out of _there_ on a broken leg, and I’ll break out of here.”

“We both know that isn’t quite an _accurate_ description of your “coronation,” Foman said. “And from the looks of your correspondence, it seems there are those in the Fire Nation military who would agree that your position as Fire Lord was…untenable. Now, how many times between the Day of Black Sun and the Avatar’s arrival in the Fire Nation did you see the sun, and for approximately how long each time?”

“What? …I don’t have to talk to you. Let me out,” Zuko said.

“It must have been at least three times, judging by the time frame and your current firebending abilities, but my sources suspiciously lack information,” Foman said.

“…Why would you care about that?” Zuko asked. “What are you even talking about?”

“Firebenders die after a certain period of time without contact with their element,” Foman said. “That, or they start to crack up after losing their abilities. If they don’t go insane, they try to commit suicide. You’re neither insane, nor dead, _nor_ a nonbender, so I’ll ask again: how many times did you see the sun? And _do_ be honest. This is for our records for posterity.”

“How would you know that?” Zuko asked, slowly. “I’ve never heard of anything like that happening before.”

“The Dai Li are very discreet,” Foman smiled evilly.

“It’s wrong, anyway,” Zuko glared. “I _never_ saw the sun until after my father was long gone, and I survived just fine.”

“Fascinating,” Foman raised an eyebrow, “if it’s true.”

“Let me _go,_ ” Zuko demanded, rattling the chain again.

“I’ll have to run some experiments. I’ve never seen a firebender survive without sunlight for that long…I’ll be curious to see what it does to you.” Foman stood up and gestured at one of the agents guarding the cell. “Shu Gi, you’re with me.”

“Come back here!” Zuko yelled as Foman walked away. He screamed fire as long as he could, he yelled at the guards, he rattled everything he could touch. Water dripped indifferently down the walls of the cave onto him, and Foman didn’t come back.

——————————————————————

It had only been one day, he was pretty sure. (Every time he slept, it would get harder to tell how much time had passed, he remembered this from his time in Ozai’s prison.) Toph was going to _kill_ him for not going back to meet up with her. He smiled, thinking about it. Toph was only seconds away from physical violence at any time—she was going to _destroy_ the Dai Li getting him out.

He’d made a mistake, using up so much of his energy at once trying to firebend himself free. As satisfying as it was to force Foman out of range of his breath-of-fire, the Dai Li had never heard of second dinner, or they didn’t care. Zuko had spent too much energy using his fire, and he was starting to get hungry. _Distractingly_ hungry.

But the fact that he was alive _meant_ something. If Foman wanted him dead, clearly he would be dead. He was being kept alive, so eventually they’d have to feed him. Assuming they needed him for something other than Foman’s “experiements.” How many firebenders were somewhere under Ba Sing Se going slowly insane? Zuko had been too focused on the Avatar to search much of the Lake Laogai compound, but he should have done something about it.

An agent offered him a cup of water. As if he was going to trust anything they offered him. There was a rumble they could both feel through the entire cavern. A few rocks shifted along the ground. _Toph._

“No thanks,” Zuko laughed, knocking the cup away and spilling it. “I don’t need any poison right now. My friend is coming for me.”

The rumbling continued for several minutes before it stopped. Then, not long after, it started again, but a little less powerful—like it was further away. Then it stopped again. Toph didn’t come.

——————————————————————

“It seems your friends have abandoned you,” Foman said. “I spoke with the Avatar. He believes it would be best if you didn’t have the opportunity to sit on the Fire Throne.”

“Nice try,” Zuko laughed. “Do you expect me to believe Aang agreed to _Azula_ on the throne? I don’t believe you.”

“Azula _will_ take the throne,” Foman said. “It’s merely a matter of convincing her properly.”

“Good luck convincing Azula to do _anything_ she doesn’t want to do,” Zuko laughed. “It’s like you’ve never met her!”

“You really _are_ annoying,” Foman grit his teeth. “You never stop talking.”

“I’ll _keep_ making myself a nuisance until you _let me go_ ,” Zuko glared defiantly.

“But you’ve stopped firebending,” Foman sighed diplomatically. “By choice, I assume. You can’t already be out of energy, that’s probably another two days without food away.”

“You don’t scare me,” Zuko hissed.

“I honestly don’t care whether or not I do,” Foman shrugged. He snapped his fingers. “Shu Gi, how many agents did it take to subdue him while he was being brought down?”

“Eleven, sir. Seven sustained injuries,” one of the agents said.

“All right,” Foman nodded. “Have twenty on standby.”

Foman stood up and left the cave. After a few minutes, it began to fill with agents. Zuko braced against the wall and held onto his inner fire, he was going to need to firebend to get out of this. Assuming there _was_ a way to get out of this.

“Take him out of the cell,” Shu Gi ordered.

“What are you doing? I won’t let you,” Zuko said, trying to back into a corner, but the room was _full_ of agents, and they were getting ready for _something,_ and he’d rather not use up the last of his energy until he needed it.

They unlocked the chain and cuffed his hands behind his back with rock, and pretty much held him standing up in the center of the cavern.

“I could set everyone here on fire,” Zuko said, making a token effort to struggle. “Turn against Foman and work for me, the treasury is full and I can pay for it. And I won’t _kill_ you when I finally break out of here,” Zuko thrashed around, but his message was much less threatening when delivered without firebending.

“If he doesn’t kill you, I will,” Azula said. Zuko squinted. She emerged from one of the tunnel entrances, followed closely by Foman.

“Now, now, that kind of talk is unproductive,” Foman smiled. “As you can see, Prince Zuko is unharmed.”

Even from several feet away, Zuko recognized that look on Azula. She was practically vibrating with tension and anger. She glared meaningfully at Foman.

“Go ahead,” Foman waved at Zuko. Zuko struggled faintly against the agents holding him in place as Azula walked up to him.

“Aren’t you going to tease me for not fighting back?” Zuko smiled, trying to catch her eye. She reached up her hand and touched the side of his head, and _ouch_ that hurt. His head felt _soft,_ like she’d poked her fingers though his skull. _Ow._

“I’m afraid I can’t,” Azula said. She pulled her hand away. It was red. For a moment Zuko worried the Dai Li had hurt her, but that was ridiculous—she’d been fine when she came in. So that was _his_ blood. He vaguely recalled the sensation of a rock to his temple. He winced at the memory. Well, at least the blood didn’t look _fresh._

“Release him, or I’ll kill everyone in this room,” Azula whispered, eyes locked on Zuko. Blue lightning danced on her fingertips and illuminated her from below. It was a terrifying sight.

“Whatever you say,” Foman said, and the hands holding Zuko up let go. His broken leg crumpled beneath him and he groaned as he hit the floor, though he was careful to avoid banging the side of his face where he was apparently sporting a head injury. He tore a little skin off his palms as he skidded on the cavern floor. Azula knelt next to him.

“I’ll get you out of this,” she whispered close to his ear. “I couldn’t protect you from Father but I _can_ stop this. They want me as their figurehead, I’m going to do it.”

“What?” Zuko looked up at her.

“They want me to take over the other nations and rule the world,” Azula held up air quotes around “rule the world,” and rolled her eyes. “They just want to run a larger version of Ba Sing Se.”

“Don’t do it,” Zuko said.

“Look at you, Zuzu. Of course I’m going to do it.”

“Azula, _don’t,”_ Zuko said, not caring if Foman could overhear. “The Fire Nation and our family have done enough damage to the world. Look, this is _nothing._ You remember how Father treated me, this is _nothing,_ I promise. A broken leg and a bump on the head? I’m fine. I’m asking you _not to hurt people,_ okay? Whatever happens to me, _don’t help them._ ”

“Zuko, they said they would _kill you,”_ Azula said.

“Let them kill me if they want to. I mean, help us both escape if you can…I mean…” Zuko shook his head and felt a headache starting to grow where Azula had touched him. “Promise me you won’t do what they want, no matter what.”

“Okay,” Azula nodded, cupping his hand to her cheek. “Okay. Okay, I promise,” she whispered, shuddering slightly.

“Don’t cry,” Zuko said, rubbing her cheek.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Foman said, grabbing Azula’s shoulder. He pulled her to her feet. “You’ve seen him. He’s alive. He’s relatively unhurt. Your _official_ coronation is tomorrow, and as soon as your title as Fire Lord is solidified, we begin the invasion.”

“I won’t help you,” Azula said, scrubbing her cheek with one sleeve, still looking at Zuko on the ground.

“I thought you might say that,” Foman said. “One more chance to reconsider while your brother _remains_ relatively unhurt.” He sounds disinterested…He sounded like he was completely convinced she would agree.

She looked down at Zuko, pleading with her eyes. Zuko looked up at her and shook his head _no._ All he had to do was hold out a little while, and either Azula would break them both free or his friends would show up to help. Foman wouldn’t kill him, not while he was still useful as leverage. Even _Ozai_ had never gotten around to killing him, and Zuko was starting to believe nobody would.

“I won’t do it,” Azula said, looking away.

“I completely understand. And you don’t have to watch—I’m not a monster,” Foman said, snapping his fingers.

And then they beat Zuko up. He could only assume it was for Azula’s benefit. He couldn’t tell if she was watching or not. Even with his arms behind his back, he still had the breath-of-fire, but his flame was weak in the cavern, with no sunlight, with the damp air, with the fact that he hadn’t eaten, with the weight of the sheer hopeless-ness of it all. It was mildly frustrating that he wasn’t enough of a threat for them to try gagging him, but there _were_ twenty of them, and his arms were already cuffed _and_ he had a broken leg. It was hardly a fair fight. It wasn’t meant to be. He injured a few of them (he hoped). They ended up knocking him out again. The last thing he saw was a fist in a stone glove coming down on his face.

——————————————————————

He woke up back in the cell, wrist chained to the wall, with a splitting headache. He groaned and managed to sit up. Foman and Azula were gone, but there were still three guards in the room. He was touched—Ozai had usually ordered two, at the most. Zuko was dangerous, but more than anything else, he could be annoying. And he _would_ be, he’d undermine Foman every chance he got. He didn’t have to hold out long, anyway. Someone would come for him.

“Hey, how do I order room service?” Zuko waved at one of the guards and discovered his arm was too sore to raise higher than his shoulder. “Hey, over there! Guy with the weird nose! I’m talking to you!” The guard didn’t respond. Zuko didn’t really expect him to.

Zuko flicked his fingers a few times, to check if he could still make a flame. It was faint, but it was there. Generating it made him _hungry._ His stomach growled.

“Hey, as cruel as Ozai was, firebenders don’t starve their prisoners,” Zuko said, rattling the chain. “I’d like a steak, please. Medium.”

So this was the plan—make himself as annoying as possible, refuse to cooperate, see what they did next. Best case scenario, it would wear them down, they’d let down their guard a little bit, and Zuko would get an opportunity to escape. Worst case scenario, they’d kill him, and he _really_ didn’t like the idea of that, but at least it would be an honorable death. Better than starving to death, at least.

So Zuko talked and yelled at the guards as long as he could, and make sounds with rocks and the chains when his voice got hoarse. The guard cycle changed four times before he was too tired to keep his eyes open.

——————————————————————

He was awoken by a clattering sound as something hit the bars. He sat bolt upright and instinctively threw a fireball at the sound. It dissipated before it even passed the bars. Foman stood on the other side, looking down at him, fuming.

“What did you say to her?” Foman glared. He looked ready to burst with anger.

Zuko ignored the aches and pains he was still feeling after the beating (and the spikes of hunger in his stomach, only getting stronger every time he tried to bend) and arranged himself in a more dignified sitting position. “You must be room service. I didn’t realize they let butt-ugly people like you serve food. Where’s my steak?”

“What did you say to her?” Foman crouched so he was eye level with Zuko, staring him down. “She was ready to cooperate.”

“You think Azula would cooperate with _you_ to protect _me_?” Zuko laughed, a mimicry of the wide-eyed “Azula hates me” person he used to be.

“When we bring her down again,” Foman said, smoothing out his robes as he spoke, “you _will_ tell her to do what I say. You can beg, you can plead, you can cry, _make her obey me._ ”

“No one in this _world_ could make Azula obey _anyone,”_ Zuko smiled. “I doubt any spirit could, either. The Avatar’s already tried, Foman, you’re fresh out of luck.”

“I will _make_ you convince her,” Foman said, dangerously.

“ _Right,”_ Zuko said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “Because you already had your goons beat me up _once,_ and that worked _so well!_ I bet this time, it’ll work out _exactly_ like you want.”

“Reports didn’t indicate you were this…this…” Foman gestured at Zuko, annoyed.

“I survived my father’s prison. You think I’m scared of _this_?” Zuko scoffed.

“No, I suppose not,” Foman nodded. He stood up. “In a few more days, your fire will go out. Then we’ll talk again.”

“I already told you, Ozai had me for who knows _how_ long. You think I’m gonna crack? I’ll _never_ run out of fire,” Zuko glared.

“If that were true, you would prove it,” Foman said. “Starting to get hungry?”

“I wouldn’t eat what _you_ offered, anyway,” Zuko scowled.

Foman didn’t respond to that, he just turned and walked out of the cavern. Zuko kept yelling after him, rattling, throwing rocks and stuff from the ground at the bars. Eventually, he got tired, and he sat back. He survived Ozai’s prison, and he would survive this. And after the Day of Black Sun, he’d had nothing, no friends, no allies, nothing—but he _did_ have friends now. Aang, Katara, Sokka, Toph…they would come for him. Somebody would come.

——————————————————————

Sometime after he fell asleep, the guards woke him up and beat the shit out of him again. It didn’t really seem like they had their hearts in it, though. They stopped before knocking him unconscious, and just filed out of the cell calmly. It seemed they were under orders, from Foman, no doubt. Zuko coughed up blood and decided to pretend he didn’t notice the red droplets on the ground. “Is that the best you got?” He choked out. “I can take it. Tell Foman I’m…fuck.” He couldn’t think of anything cool to say. He went back to sleep. There wasn’t much else to do.

——————————————————————

There was a _rhythm_ to this. Zuko was starting to figure it out. It was different than before. The only time anyone ever bothered him in Ozai’s prison was when he was trying to escape, and as soon as he’d stopped trying, they left him alone, and it was boring, but it’s not like it was supposed to be a vacation…Anyway. In Dai Li custody, no one said anything or tried to stop him when he spent hours working on burning through the cuffs, or when he yelled at the guards to describe exactly how Azula would kill them. They weren’t so much concerned about escape attempts and annoyances as much as they were about not letting him _sleep._ He got woken up to a beating a few more times. This certainly couldn’t be described as “boring.”

For as long as he could manage it, he called flame to his index and middle finger, focusing a tight heat on the cuffs, trying to burn through the chain. He didn’t make much more difference than a permanent char mark before the flame stopped coming. They still weren’t feeding him, and he was getting weak much more quickly. In Ozai’s tender care, it took about a month before he stopped being able to call flame. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been here, but it couldn’t have been that long…could it? It _couldn’t_ be that long, because someone would have come for him. Someone _was_ going to come, he was sure of it.

At some point, he woke up and realized he’d lost track of how many times he’d slept since getting put down here, the last marker he’d had for how much time was passing. Foman came again in the block of time that he was awake.

“If you think _this_ is going to “soften me up,” you’re wrong,” Zuko said, gesturing at his black eye. He was _pretty_ sure it was a black eye—he didn’t have a mirror, but there was no way it _wasn’t_ a black eye.

Foman unlocked the cell door and came inside. He put his hand on Zuko’s throat.

“Is this a _threat?_ If you were going to kill me, you’d have done it by now,” Zuko laughed. Foman squeezed just a little bit tighter. Zuko did his best to maintain eye contact.

Foman let go. Zuko leaned over and coughed several times—he didn’t intend to, but it was involuntary.

“You can no longer firebend,” Foman nodded. “After the reports of your time in Ozai’s prison, I worried our methods would be unreliable against you, but you were no stronger than the others.”

Zuko wanted to yell something at him, something tough like “I can still bend, just try me,” but if that were true, he would have stopped Foman from choking him. Zuko’s stomach audibly growled. Foman sat cross-legged across from him in the cell.

“Let us revisit our earlier conversation,” Foman smiled. “I would like to know what you said to your sister, and I would like you to tell her to cooperate with me.”

“I told her that your face is stupid,” Zuko said. It wasn’t the best insult he’d ever come up with, but given the circumstances, it was the best he could do. “Maybe if you wore a paper bag over your head she’d be more likely to listen to you.”

“Without your bending, you are defenseless,” Foman said. “If you will not persuade your sister to work with me, you’re useless. I would reconsider your position, if I were you.”

“Or what, you’ll send in another team to beat me up? You’ll kill me?” Zuko looked Foman in the eyes, summoning all his willpower.

“If I did, who would stop me? You can’t honestly expect anyone will rescue you,” Foman said.

“I’m not afraid to die,” Zuko said. “I _won’t_ help you. I will fight you every single day until someone comes for me or until I escape.”

“If I were you, I wouldn’t expect to walk on that leg ever again,” Foman said. “When it heals, we’ll break it again.”

“…Is _that_ supposed to scare me?” Zuko asked. “You get used to the feeling after a while.”

“No, you don’t,” Foman smiled, calmly. He raised an eyebrow, amused. “At least, it appears _you_ haven’t. That look in your eye…you really _don’t_ fear death, but the thought of a broken bone _frightens_ you. There are things I could do to you worse than death, boy. Don’t you understand that?”

Zuko swallowed thickly, trying to think of something to say in response.

“Interesting,” Foman nodded. “You’d rather die than cooperate with me, and you’d rather die than contemplate a future of broken bones. You wouldn’t last long under torture, I can tell.”

“I think you’d be surprised what I can cope with,” Zuko said quietly.

“I expect to be,” Foman stood up. He left the cell. The next time Zuko slept, it was uninterrupted. Somehow, this was even more worrying.

——————————————————————

Secretly, Zuko managed a little flame. He pinched a piece of his torn, dirty robe between his fingers and it came away sooty. But he had to save his energy—the longer he went without food, the less he’d be able to bend, and if the opportunity came, he would need his fire. Especially if they didn’t know he still had it.

He’d been careless with his fire in Ozai’s prison, using it up like it would always be there. He’d burned his hair short more than once, there, an outward sign of how frustrated he was at himself, how ashamed that he’d failed to escape. Thinking about it only made him feel worse—he’d only had the opportunity to grow his hair out for a little while, and then after Black Sun, he was back to shame/banished/prison haircuts. It just didn’t feel _right_ to have a phoenix tail in a place the sun doesn’t shine.

He wasn’t going to sacrifice the precious inches of hair he’d grown back since Ozai’s prison. He was keeping his hair.

Foman came back while Zuko was yelling at one of the guards that Azula would cook and eat him for breakfast.

“Don’t you ever shut up?” Foman sighed.

“Make me,” Zuko spat it out.

“I wish I could,” Foman ground out. “I’m going to bring your sister down. You will tell her to cooperate with me. You will beg, you will plead, you will convince her to obey me.”

“You’ve tried this shit before,” Zuko said, crossing his arms. “I won’t.”

“You will, or she will watch you receive what I can only describe as “creative acupuncture,” Foman said.

Zuko fell silent and watched as some of the agents dragged in a small table, just big enough for him to fit on.

“Get him out of there,” Foman snapped.

Zuko struggled weakly as they uncuffed him and laid him face-up on the table. They locked earthen clamps around his wrists and ankles. There was also one around his neck.

“You’re a coward who can’t even face one firebender,” Zuko said, putting on a brave face. “Let me off this table and I’ll show you who’s the better bender, even with a broken leg.”

“Every time I come down here, I regret my order not to gag him,” Foman rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Remind me why I said that?”

“You said that screams are more convincing than silence,” Shu Gi said.

“Right,” Foman rolled his eyes.

“Azula’s heard me scream. Azula’s _made_ me scream,” Zuko laughed. “She’s the one who gave me the scar on my stomach.”

“Perhaps the boy is right, and he has no power to convince his sister to work with us,” Shu Gi said.

“If that were true, he wouldn’t have been able to convince her _not_ to work with us,” Foman said. “We’ll see how much she cares about him.”

Azula was escorted down by several agents. She looked worse than she had the last time Zuko saw her, but still pretty much put together.

“Zuko would like to tell you he’s reconsidered,” Foman smiled. “He wants you to obey our commands.”

“I haven’t!” Zuko yelled, still lying on the table. “Don’t listen to him!”

“I’m really starting to get sick of your games, Foman,” Azula glared.

“He can no longer firebend,” Foman said. “The combination of lack of sunlight and lack of food will do that to a firebender. He might still recover if we moved him to one of the rooms in the palace. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“Don’t you worry about _my_ bending,” Zuko struggled in the rocks holding him down. “I’ll kick your ass right now!”

“I’ve changed my mind. Gag him. For now,” Foman said. Rock climbed up the side of the table and filled his mouth, sealing it closed. He could still breathe, but just barely. He continued to struggle, even though he knew it was pointless. If there was just some kind of distraction, the agents would lose focus and he could break out. “Azula, you’re worried about him. Anyone would be, it’s all right.”

“Don’t tell me how I feel,” Azula glared, pulling on the agents holding her back.

“Agree to work with us, and this all goes away. You and brother can _both_ live in the palace. We have no real need to hurt him,” Foman smiled. “You can help him.”

“He wants me to fight you,” Azula said. “I won’t help you.”

“He’ll change his mind,” Foman said. “I can assure you, he will.”

Zuko shook his head _no_ as best he could with the heavy gag holding him in place.

“You must know him well,” Foman said. “Better than anyone, perhaps. How well do you think he’d handle torture?”

“…He specifically told me _not_ to help you, even if it kills him,” Azula said, carefully not answering the question.

“And a quick death is so preferable to torture, isn’t it?” Foman said. “Much easier, too, and _far_ less work for the agents…but I’m afraid I believe him that he’s not afraid to die, and apparently, I need him to tell you to cooperate with me, and dead people can’t talk.”

Azula was looking at something Zuko couldn’t see, no matter how much he tried to crane his neck. She looked _scared._

“Last chance to decide to help us,” Foman said.

“Go to hell,” Azula choked out. Was she _crying?_

“Remove the gag,” Foman snapped. It slipped away.

“Azula, this _is_ what I want, you’re the more valuable one of us, _don’t do what they say,”_ Zuko gushed before they could stop him. “I promise. If you really care about me, don’t help them.”

One of the agents stepped into view with a box.

“You’ll want to watch this, princess,” Foman smiled. “This is _your_ fault, after all.”

The agents pulled out a set of needles, sharp and silvery. Fortunately, Zuko was deathly afraid of needles. As soon as first one came close to his skin, he fainted.

——————————————————————

Zuko woke up in the cell, cuffed to the wall again. His right side, under his arm, hurt. So did the arm. He sat up to inspect it and noticed Azula was sitting across from him. He jerked upright, almost yanking the cuffed arm out of it’s socket. “Azula? What are you doing here?!?”

He then noticed that she actually _wasn’t_ in his cell, she was in the one next to his. She was also cuffed to the wall. She didn’t _look_ hurt.

“Are you okay?” Zuko asked.

“I should be asking _you_ that,” Azula laughed sadly. She scooted as close as she could to the bars that divided their cells.

“I’m totally fine,” Zuko said, inching closer to her. “Nothing they do can phase me anymore.”

“Really? Because you couldn’t even _look_ at the needles without passing out,” Azula shivered.

“It’s not _my_ fault I’m scared of needles,” Zuko said. “And they don’t bother with anything if you’re unconscious. If you’re not awake, it’s not _really_ torture.”

“They bothered,” Azula looked uncomfortable. “ _I_ was awake. To watch. How’s your arm?”

“Fine,” Zuko said, looking down at it. It was covered in tiny pinpricks, some of which were bleeding. “Oh. I guess it hurts.”

“If we get out of this, I’m going to kill you for making me do this,” Azula hissed. “Look, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if I cooperated with them. I listened to Foman’s plan, it’s not like I had a choice because it’s _all_ he talks about, and parts of it aren’t so horrible. _None_ of it involves you and me getting hurt…and I don’t want to keep watching you get hurt. I can’t take it anymore.”

“Azula, the whole reason I got myself in Father’s prison is that I _don’t_ want to be responsible for people getting hurt anymore. The Fire Nation has hurt so many people…and even our own people are getting hurt in the war! And you and me…we’re _teenagers,_ but the stuff we’ve done…” Zuko shivered. “I mean it. I would rather die, I’d rather get tortured by the Dai Li, I’d rather sit in Earth Kingdom prison next to Dad for the rest of my life than be responsible for one more person getting hurt. If you help them take over the other nations…Look, I’m asking you not to do it. Please.”

“After you fainted, they poked you with all the needles,” Azula said.

“Eww, eww, I don’t want to hear that,” Zuko winced.

“I had to _watch,_ ” Azula said. “Zuko. Are they really starving you?”

“I’m fine, and they rationed food in Father’s prison, anyway, so I’m used to it,” Zuko lied. The Fire Nation was a lot of things, but they didn’t withhold food from prisoners. It would have been unthinkably cruel.

“You’re _hurt_ ,” Azula said. “You look like you’re dying.”

“Oh Agni,” Zuko went pale. “Are they going to treat _you_ the same way?”

“The future face of the Fire Nation has to stay intact, so no, I’m not staying here. Foman said he wanted me to see “up close” how you’re living,” Azula shook her head. “In a few hours I’m going back up to _my_ cell—I shouldn’t call it that, I have a bed and a window and a whole palace and you’re stuck _here—“_

“Someone will come for us,” Zuko said, trying to touch her hand. He couldn’t quite reach. “My friends won’t give up. They’re _stupid_ stubborn, they won’t just leave us here.”

“I doubt they care enough to come looking for _me_ ,” Azula said, looking like she had a sour taste in her mouth. “How do you know they didn’t give up on you, write you off as a loss and put Mai in charge?”

“They’ll come,” Zuko said. “Someone will come. I can hold on.”

“I really want to help you,” Azula said, leaning her forehead into the bars. “Foman’s set on torturing you now, he really thinks it’ll make you change your mind.”

“Even if I do, don’t listen,” Zuko said. “Even if they _do_ torture me to the point that I give up and tell you to help them, that’s not _me._ They probably _can_ coerce me, but that won’t be what I want. I don’t care if I go out of my mind and beg you to help them…listen to me _now_ , while I’m still me, while I can still think. I don’t want you to hurt _anyone_ because of me.”

“Does that include the Dai Li?” Azula laughed.

“Fair point,” Zuko considered. “Okay, I meant innocent people. If you’re breaking us out, kill all the Dai Li you want.”

“Fair enough,” Azula said. “Are you really gonna be okay?”

He let himself be serious for a few moments, a luxury he could hardly afford when he was alone. “…Probably not,” Zuko said. “But it’s okay.”

“How is that okay?” Azula wiped her eye. She was crying again, quietly—he almost hadn’t noticed.

“It’ll all work out,” Zuko said quietly. “Aang’s never gonna make me pay for what I’ve done…if this is my punishment for the years spent doing exactly what Father wanted, that would be okay. Who needs a grand redemption arc anyway, helping the Avatar and saving the world,” Zuko laughed to himself. “Not everyone gets to be cosmically forgiven by the universe.”

“I wish things were different,” Azula said.

“Me too,” Zuko said. He leaned his forehead against the bars, touching hers.

“I love you, Zuzu,” Azula said.

“Love you, Lala,” Zuko smiled.

They talked for a little while longer, yelling and throwing things at the guards together. Azula was a fan of the “annoy your captors as much as possible” plan, and Foman removed her much earlier than he’d planned, apparently to prevent Zuko from teaching her any other annoying tricks. Zuko waved as she left. She smiled weakly back.

Once she was gone, Zuko really inspected his arm and side. He had a _lot_ of little pinpricks. At least he’d been unconscious. He wondered if he’d screamed.

——————————————————————

He’d lasted longer than this without food. In the Earth Kingdom, he’d had to travel most days on an empty stomach. He’d felt like he was digesting his own insides, like his muscles were wasting away, and he was still on ostrich-horseback trying to get to the next town. In here, it wasn’t like he had to move much, so it was easier to conserve energy. He was hungry, but it wouldn’t kill him. It was a little scary to think about how long it would take to kill him, or if the Dai Li would let that happen. It was much easier to lie on the ground and talk at the guards.

“You think _this_ is torture? You should talk to my Father. What, are you gonna spend the next thirteen years telling me I’ll never be as good a firebender as Azula? I mean, when you say it like that, it doesn’t sound so bad, but trust me, I’m still feeling the pain from that one,” Zuko said, barely conscious. It wasn’t hard to just lay on the ground and let it all out, one oozy mess of emotion. “You guys have _nothing_ on _my_ ability to torture myself. You’re all like, hey! We’re gonna break your legs! and my brain is all like hey! Aang is only pretending to like you in an elaborate trick to exact horrible revenge on you! and I’m like, no he’s not. and my brain is like Let’s all imagine Aang killing us, and I’m like, aw, brain, no—“

“I may not be the Avatar, but you should still fear me,” Foman said.

Zuko’s head swam and he looked up at Foman. “You’re lucky I’m so dizzy or I’d come up there and fight you,” Zuko slurred, dead tired.

“Shut up.” Foman said, crouching low over Zuko’s face. “You’ve been talking for hours. You’ve been talking since we brought you _down_ here. Shut up!”

“Nope,” Zuko shook his head. “You’re gonna…have to let me go if you want peace and quiet in here again.”

“I grow weary of this,” Foman said. “You’ve tested my patience for too long.”

“I’ll never shut up,” Zuko spat blood on the ground. “I will never surrender to you.”

“Choices like that have consequences. Shut up or I’ll crush your broken leg into so many pieces it’ll never knit back together,” Foman said in a low, dangerous voice.

“Prove it!” Zuko laughed.

Foman stood up and held his boot over Zuko’s broken leg.

“You won’t,” Zuko said. “I won’t stop talking, you’ll have to let me go—“

Foman slowly pressed down and it was _agony,_ it hurt just to exist and now it was _so much worse, so much worse—_

“You won’t,” Zuko said.

“Try me,” Foman said. “Say one more thing. Anything. Apologize for bothering me, even. Say one more word and I’ll do it.”

He pressed down just a little harder, enough to make it clear he was there and he wasn’t backing down. Offering to die for what you believe in is one thing, but _this…_ Foman would do it. Foman was right, you never really get used to how it feels to break a bone…and this wouldn’t be a clean break, this would be a slow crush into splintery pieces of bone floating around loose in his leg, twisting around and stabbing him with every motion, with every beat of his heart…

Zuko clammed up.

“That’s better,” Foman smiled. He didn’t remove his foot. “Are you sure? No more wisecracks? No more threats? No more promises someone is coming to rescue you?”

Zuko couldn’t meet his eyes. For all he knew, Foman was going to call Azula in and do it anyway, and it was going to _break_ him.

“Pity,” Foman sighed, stepping away. “That would have been diverting. If any of the guards report you saying _anything_ to _anyone,_ I’ll do it. Do you understand?”

Zuko nodded.

“Good,” Foman said. “Now I can _focus._ Continue, Shu Gi.”

——————————————————————

There was even less to break up the monotony after he stopped talking. No more harassing the guards, no more secretly burning through his cuffs, just lying on this stupid wet cave floor, sometimes awake, sometimes asleep, all the time hungry and tired and _hurting._

Without his own yelling to cover it up, he could hear more of their plans. They were trying to figure out a way to brainwash him so that he’d convince Azula to cooperate but she wouldn’t _know_ they brainwashed him, but they were having difficulties deciding on a technique that would accomplish that. He was quietly proud of how he’d thrown such a wrench into their plans, but any day now they’d get bored of keeping him alive…

Time passed. He slept, he woke up. Every so often, someone (or a group) came in to beat him up, make sure the injuries stayed fresh or something. Fewer people every time—Zuko was too weak to fight, anyway.

One of those times, Foman dragged him fully out of the cell, down one of the tunnels. Zuko’s broken leg bumped on every rock. He couldn’t stand, couldn’t resist.

“Stop. Please,” Zuko said, gasping quietly at the pain. He hoped they heard, and that they _would_ stop. He hoped they didn’t hear, and that he’d get to keep his legs. Foman’s hand was tangled in his hair, which was long enough for someone to grab it, and Foman was taking full advantage of this, as if he hadn’t humiliated Zuko enough. It hurt, but not bad enough to be noticeable amongst all the other pains he could feel. His whole body hurt.

“He’s no use to us like this,” Foman said, still dragging Zuko along the tunnel. Where were they going?

“Should we prepare him for the tea shop?” It sounded like Shu Gi’s voice, but it was too dark for Zuko to see very far.

“Yes…perhaps that will make him more convincing,” Foman said, and tightened the grip on Zuko’s hair. Zuko had heard bits and pieces of this plan—they couldn’t figure out how to get him to cooperate, so they were going to try getting _rid_ of him. They weren’t going to kill him. They were going to brainwash him, give him a Ba Sing Se personality and see if “Lee from the tea shop” was a sufficient incentive for Azula to give in. They seemed convinced they could change him, like “Lee” was going to do whatever they said without question. Zuko really hoped that wasn’t something they could do, but apparently, he was about to find out.

“I’ll never help you,” Zuko could hardly breathe but he managed to choke it out. He pawed weakly at the hand holding his head up. “You’ll never get Azula to agree to it.”

“At once, sir,” Shu Gi said, as if Zuko hadn’t even spoken.

“We’d better add a failsafe, just in case,” Foman mused. “Before you set up the influence, block his memory since the day he came to the palace. He knows too much about our plans.”

“But he won’t remember a thing once we influence him, sir.” That was somebody else. How many people were here? It had been _days_ since they’d needed more than two benders to take Zuko down. It felt like days. He had no way of knowing how long it had been, how long he’d been here. Maybe it had been weeks, months, years…Maybe no one was coming for him. Maybe this was his last chance at doing something, _anything_ that would mean something before they killed him. Zuko put both his hands on the one holding his hair and concentrated all of his remaining strength.

“Even under the influence, half-remembered events can still occasionally provide a certain intuition,” Foman was saying. “He’s got friends, including the brat you’ve both failed to apprehend. It would be best if we prepared for every eventuality. Wipe as much as you need to make sure he doesn’t remember his time here.”

Zuko screamed, and set his hands on fire. It felt like he was burning out his nerve endings. Firebending wasn’t supposed to _hurt._ But it worked—Foman dropped him. Zuko’s chin crashed into the floor. The air smelled horrible, like burning hair. It was a familiar smell. He tasted blood in his mouth. A familiar taste. He felt Foman’s shoe settling over his head—a familiar sensation, now. Everything was so unbearably _familiar,_ so unbearably _the same._

“He burned me,” Foman laughed, almost incredulous. “I’m impressed he can still get it up. Wipe a little _more_ than the last two weeks, he’s too dangerous to—“

Whatever was said, Zuko missed it as the shoe lifted off of him and kicked him in the side. Then there were footsteps. There were people on both sides of Zuko, picking him up by his shoulders. He didn’t have the energy for another fire blast. He was moved somewhere, deep in the damp, cold tunnels. He was sat down in a chair…

——————————————————————

Lee opened his eyes. He was sitting in a chair. Something was holding him in place. He couldn’t move. There was a person standing in front of him.

“Everything is fine,” the man said.

“Everything is fine,” Lee repeated. He smiled. Why _wouldn’t_ someone smile when everything is fine?

“My name is Foman,” the man said. “Do you know who I am?”

“No,” Lee shook his head.

“I’m a friend of your uncle’s,” Foman said. “You’re going to do something for me.”

“I’m happy to help,” Lee smiled.

——————————————————————

Foman helped Lee into a chair with wheels. Foman explained that Lee couldn’t walk right now, because his leg was broken. Lee smiled and nodded, because he didn’t quite understand what was happening, but things just made _sense._ Everything was exactly how it was supposed to be, and when Foman said that, Lee knew it was true. He felt fuzzy and distant, like he was in a dream. How nice that Foman was helping him! He didn’t even have to focus his eyes to look around. He wasn’t sure that he _could_ focus his eyes. Everything was fine. He couldn’t be happier.

Foman’s friend asked if they should wipe off all the blood before moving Lee. Foman said it didn’t matter, so Lee stopped paying attention. They pushed his wheelchair through a dark place for a long while, until they came into a bigger room. It looked like a cave! There were more people in the cave, all dressed in friendly green, except for a girl in red in a cage.

Foman wheeled Lee right up next to her. She was crying.

“Are you okay?” Lee asked.

“She’s fine,” Foman said.

She was fine! It was so nice to hear that. She was still crying, though. “It’s okay,” Lee smiled. “You’re fine!”

She didn’t understand, because she kept crying. That didn’t make any sense. Lee looked up at Foman for help.

“Introduce yourself,” Foman said.

“My name is Lee,” Lee said. “I work at a tea shop in Ba Sing Se, and…and now I’m here! It’s nice to meet you.”

The girl didn’t really say anything back to him, but she stopped crying. She sat up, wiped her tears, and firmly ignored him, talking only to Foman. This was totally fine, everything was exactly how it should be! Foman said so. Lee was _really_ tired, he was just going to try and take a short nap while Foman talked to the girl.

“What did you do to him?” the girl scowled. “He’s covered in blood.” She gestured at Lee. She was right. He _was_ covered in blood. Which was weird, because he didn’t feel any pain…there was just kind of a dull sensation all over him, like he was a doll stuffed with too much cotton and he was going to burst at the seams. And he was hungry.

“Your new friend “Lee” is going to live in a tea shop with his uncle “Mushi,” it’s actually not far from the palace,” Foman said. Lee perked up at this. Mushi! He missed Mushi. Lee hadn’t seen him in so long.

“I know what the Dai Li is capable of,” the girl said. “Don’t explain “the influence” to me, I know what it is. Why is he covered in blood?”

“Some procedures require an extra…enticement to make sure they’re going to stick,” Foman said. “Head wounds simply bleed more than other injuries, it’s nothing to be concerned about. Do you honestly think I’m going to let him die? He’s my newest trophy, an example to the Fire Nation of what will happen if they disobey me,” Foman said. “Maybe he’ll serve tea in my new capital city. Would you like that, Lee?”

Lee looked up. Someone had asked him a question! But Foman was on the wrong side of him, Lee couldn’t really hear out of that ear, and he couldn’t remember why. He understood the general idea of the question, though—Foman had told him what to say. “I’m happy to help!” Lee smiled at the girl.

“I’m going to kill you,” the girl said, staring at Foman. “No, actually…Death is too good for you, after what you’ve done to my brother. I’m going to make you _suffer._ ”

“You must be confused, miss,” Lee chimed in helpfully. “Foman is really nice. He takes care of people. He cares about people, he wants to protect them. You should help him!”

“Zuko, shut up,” the girl said, and Lee’s blood ran _cold._ He froze, trying to process what had just happened. He _remembered_ that phrase, he wasn’t supposed to talk or else…something…

“Don’t worry, Lee,” Foman said, and all the scary little thoughts melted away. Really, there was nothing to worry about! Foman kept talking. “I’m going to leave you here to talk to Azula, Lee. You just tell her that if she agrees to help me, everything will be just fine.”

“Okay!” Lee smiled, and Foman patted him on the head a few times. Foman wheeled him a little closer to the girl, but he was still too far away to touch her. Then all the other people in the room left, except for one of the men in green, who was near the exit.

“Your name is Azula?” Lee asked.

“Zuko, just hold on a little longer. I’ll get us out of this,” Azula said. She was doing something with her hands. She was a firebender! That was a little scary, but Foman had said everything was fine, so there was nothing to worry about. She was trying to burn her wrists, where she was wearing metal bracelets. The bracelets were attached to chains attached to the walls in the cage with the girl, whose name was Azula.

“Foman really is very nice,” Lee said. “What does he want your help with? Why won’t you help him?”

“Even if I agree to cooperate now, he won’t fix you,” Azula said, focusing on trying to burn through the bracelets. “But I made a promise, Zuko, and I’ll keep it. I won’t help him take over the other nations.” She didn’t even _look_ at him. That was kind of rude.

——————————————————————

Lee talked to the girl for a while longer. She fiddled with her bracelets and refused to talk about Foman. She had all kinds of questions for Lee, questions he didn’t know the answers to. Eventually Foman came back and talked to her some more, keeping his hand on Lee’s shoulder the whole time. It was comforting.

“This is your last chance,” Foman said. “That’s the last thing I can possibly think of to do to Zuko, to try and get some leverage over you. If you don’t agree willingly, the only thing left is to influence _you_ too. You don’t want to end up in the tea shop, do you?”

“You can _try,”_ Azula spat at Foman. “I _won’t_ help you willingly. You’ll _have_ to try influencing me. I bet I’m harder to control than my brother. No offense, Zuko.” She said this last part to Lee.

“It would be so much nicer to have your willing participation,” Foman shook his head sadly. “There are so many things that can go wrong during an influencing, after all…” He touched Lee’s hair again. Lee tried to shake him off, but he held on. “Like I said. This is your last chance,” Foman said.

“No, it’s _yours,”_ Azula said. She squeezed her eyes shut and then she _exploded!_ The whole cave filled with crackling blue energy, but it stayed in a little ball away from her and Lee. It was pretty! He reached out one hand—

“Don’t touch it,” Azula said. He pulled back. “Look,” Azula said, making direct eye contact as her lightning sparked all around the room. Foman’s friends in green were screaming. “Zuko, once you’re in the tea shop, you’ll be with Iroh. Forget about me, just get away from the Dai Li and get to safety if you can. I love you.”

“It was nice to meet you,” Lee said, confused. A rock flew through the air and hit the girl in the side of the head. She crumpled to the ground.

“What did she say to you?” Foman asked.

Lee repeated it, and Foman laughed and laughed. Then Foman wheeled him back into the darkness, back to the room with the chair and the lantern. Foman helped Lee climb into the chair—good thing, too, because Lee was starting to get sensation back in his body and he felt _horrible._ Everything hurt…the little pains didn’t even bleed together, he could feel every one of them all over his body…It was a good thing Foman was there to remind him that everything was fine, and to hold still and look at the lantern. So Lee did.

——————————————————————

The next thing he knew, he opened his eyes and he was lying down in a little room, with his uncle, Mushi, leaning over him.

He reached up with both hands to push his hair out of his eyes, and discovered it wasn’t there. He felt the top of his head. He still had a little bit of fuzz, maybe it was an inch long or two on top, but it felt weird on the edges. Like it hadn’t been cut—like it was burned, or something.

“Nephew! You’re awake!” Mushi smiled. Lee vaguely remembered being in a cave with a girl, and she was crying. He must have been dreaming. The memory of the dream faded away, like it had never happened. Everything was fine.

——————————————————————

**A FEW DAYS LATER**

——————————————————————

“How are you feeling _now,_ Zuko?” Aang asked. “Zuko?”

Zuko turned away from Aang and threw up. It was watery and the color of his tea—good thing he hadn’t eaten much for breakfast.

“It worked,” Zuko said, when he could breathe again.

“Here,” Aang handed him a wet towel. Zuko wiped off his face.

“Is everything okay?” Katara opened the door. “It sounds like…oh.”

“…I should clean that up,” Zuko said, but he still felt so dizzy. He felt like his brain was going to explode out of his skull.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Aang said, hugging him. “How are you feeling?”

“Horrible,” Zuko groaned, suppressing the urge to vomit again. He was _starving,_ but he could tell if he tried eating right now, he wasn’t going to be able to keep it down.

“Just try to breathe,” Katara said, patting him on the back. “We’re right here.”

“I should probably…tell you guys what’s going on,” Zuko sniffed.

“It’s okay if you need a little while to rest, first. I’m glad you’re back,” Aang said, still hugging him. Zuko hugged back and cried, letting it all out in a rush of emotion.

“I knew someone would come,” Zuko hiccuped in between sobs. “I… I don’t…”

Aang just stroked his hair and held him until he felt like he wasn’t going to crumble into dust and melt away in his own tears. It took a long time.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of a shorter chapter this time, bc this week I found out I don't have housing for this upcoming year of college, and also once I hit 100k words I decided to take a little me-time. Enjoy!

“I just need to b-be alone for a few minutes,” Zuko hiccuped. “And th-th-then I’ll stop c-c-crying, and w-w-we can figure out how to h-help Azula and—“

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Aang said hugging him around the waist.

“I’m t-t-trying to stop crying and you’re m-m-making it worse,” Zuko scrubbed at his eyes with his hands.

“It’s good to have you back,” Katara said, also hugging him around the waist.

“G-g-guys, if I’m gonna stop crying I n-n-need to meditate and I can’t do that if you’re hugging me,” Zuko was still tearing up, but bravely trying to take deep breaths.

“That’s not how Team Avatar does things,” Aang said, clinging on like a koala-snake. “You’re among friends. We love you.”

“Let it out,” Katara said.

“Did it work? I felt Zuko’s heartbeat go haywire all the way from outside…is someone crying?” Toph poked her head through the door.

“Hey, Toph,” Zuko spluttered, crying harder. “I’m fine, I just need a few minutes to—“

“Zuko’s okay!” Toph yelled, and fell through the door, followed by Sokka, Mai, Suki, Aikoyo, and Iroh, who all piled onto the less-like-a-group-hug more-like-a-trap situation around Zuko.

“Mai, t-t-tell everyone to…to go away,” Zuko sniffled, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Sincerest apologies, Lord Zuko,” Mai rolled her eyes, participating in the hug from the outside ring. “You think I’ll let you cry in your bedroom alone right now?”

“Yeah, you’re crying with _us_!” Ty Lee sobbed. She had somehow squeezed her way into the center. “Hugs can be very healing.”

“Glad you’re feeling better, buddy,” Sokka patted someone (he wasn’t sure who, but he hoped it was Zuko) on the back.

Zuko found himself unable to speak, and after a few minutes of embarrassing blubbery crying all over his friends, he realized just how much of a lie “I want to be alone” turned out to be. He stopped trying to force them away and accepted the hug, closing his eyes and letting all the emotions out. It kind of reminded him of the days back on the Wani, when he’d seal himself in his bedroom and Uncle would _still_ force his way in with a hug, a proverb, and a cup of tea. Zuko opened his eyes and looked around—where _was_ Uncle? It turned out that Iroh had not quite joined the hug, hanging back awkwardly on the outskirts of the group. They made eye contact. Zuko felt more tears welling up again.

“Zuko, I’m so sorry I—“ Iroh started, but Zuko freed himself from the group hug and launched himself at Iroh on his newly-healed-by-Katara not-broken legs.

“Hug now, talk later,” Zuko said, burying his face in Iroh’s shoulder, starting another group hug now centered on Iroh. Even after everyone was able to calm down enough that they were able to separate a little bit, take some deep breaths, and clean up a little bit, they didn’t do much planning for a little while. Everyone, especially Zuko, was too burnt out to talk about anything serious. Zuko, exhausted, fell asleep on the tea shop floor, and when he woke up, he found that pretty much everyone had decided to join him. He was surrounded by sleeping people, spread out on every flat surface of a room barely big enough for two people to live in, now containing…nine people? There should be ten. Iroh wasn’t there. There was a small clatter from the main tea shop. Zuko carefully extricated himself from the pile of napping people, and went to check on the sound.

Iroh stood alone in the tea shop. There was a teapot on the floor, and water spilling out of it. Iroh looked up, and Zuko saw that his eyes were red. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” Iroh smiled sadly.

“You didn’t,” Zuko said. The last time they’d had a conversation, Zuko was memory-less. The time before that, _neither_ of them had any memories, and they were both still under the Dai Li’s control. The time before that, Zuko had yelled in Iroh’s face. Zuko winced at the memory.

_“How about I dance, Uncle? Is that what you want me to do?” Zuko tried putting weight on his foot and groaned in pain._

_“I want you to stop this,” Iroh said. He had a weird look on his face. He’d been making weird faces all day, and Zuko was sick of it. “I’m not asking you to dance.”_

_“I’d do it, though,” Zuko said, and as the truth of it washed over him, he laughed. “I really would! Isn’t that funny?”_

_“I’m sorry I brought you in here,” Iroh said, standing. “Clearly you are tired. You need some sleep.”_

_“Get around to killing me. I’ll sleep forever. Get around to offering me to the Avatar, or am I supposed to suggest that myself, like it’s my idea?” Zuko shook and leaned against the table so he wouldn’t fall over. It was getting harder to breathe, and laughter was coming in horrible fits and starts between his gasps for air. “You know I’m no good at pretending. Was that meeting with the Avatar another punishment?”_

_Iroh handed Zuko his crutches. “That was not supposed to be a meeting. It was supposed to be a friendly conversation. The only thing I want, Zuko, is to help you.”_

_“Then I want to go back to my cell,” Zuko said, managing eye contact. “I’m tired. I want to sleep. If you really cared about me you’d let me stay there!”_

Iroh was kneeling on the tea shop floor, wiping up the spilled water with a cloth. His hands were shaking.

“Let me help,” Zuko said crouching next to him. Zuko picked up the teapot and placed it upright on the counter. Iroh wiped up the last of the water, and stood. Zuko took down a jar of Jasmine tea from one of the shelves. “It’s your favorite,” Zuko said, awkwardly.

Iroh gestured at the counter, where he’d laid out ingredients—Dragon’s Breath, Snap Flowers, a pinch of salt. “I wasn’t making it for me,” Iroh said.

Zuko and Iroh stood side by side at the counter. Iroh continued to prepare Zuko’s favorite blend. Zuko made Jasmine tea. They worked quietly, not really looking at each other.

“I didn’t realize you had acquired so much skill,” Iroh said, watching Zuko summon a concentrated little flame under his teacup.

“I’ve practiced,” Zuko said. “…I was using it to meditate.”

Iroh nodded, and looked away. “Practice makes improvement. I’m proud of you… I’ve practiced _apologizing_ , many times for many things and to many people, but I’m still only a novice.” He looked up at Zuko, eyes shining with tears. “Zuko, I’m deeply sorry for the pain I’ve caused you.”

“I’m the one who should be sorry,” Zuko said. He felt his face warming up, a sure sign _he_ was going to start crying at any moment. “…Uncle, can you really forgive me so easily? For how I acted all those years, for how I was even _three months ago_ when you were just trying to help me—“

“I have tried to push you to be a better person, and sometimes, I pushed too hard,” Iroh said. “I should never have acted in any way that could lead you to believe I was trying to hurt you, I should have given you the space you needed to recover from your ordeals at my brother’s hands—“

“You _were_ trying to help,” Zuko sobbed. “You remembered how you used to make me feel better on the Wani. Letting me yell at people and make stupid course-change decisions—you were trying to give me back some control over my life.”

“My intentions are meaningless in comparison to my impact,” Iroh said.

“I’ll make you a deal,” Zuko sniffed, wiping his nose. “If you can really forgive me, I’ll forgive you.”

They put down their tea and held each other in a little shop where neither of them belonged.

“On one condition,” Iroh smiled, hugging Zuko as tight as he could. “Hold me to my promise to change? Will you tell me how you’re feeling, and when I’m causing you pain?”

“We’ll help each other be better,” Zuko said, eyes squeezed shut as he hugged back.

“You’ve grown so much,” Iroh said. “I am so proud of you, and so happy you’ve found your way back to me.”

“It wasn’t that hard, Uncle,” Zuko smiled slightly. “You have a pretty strong scent.”

——————————————————————

Sokka blinked sleepily awake. He yawned, and stretched out his arms. As much as he’d needed the nap, the floor wasn’t _that_ comfortable.

“Hey, Sokka,” Zuko said, fully awake and _right next to Sokka, watching him sleep._

“Yeep!” Sokka yelped, and flailed around awkwardly. “What’s happening?”

“Shush,” Katara said from the floor next to him. She sleepily slapped him with one of her hands, then curled back up.

“It’s time to get up,” Zuko said. “You too, Katara. Everybody. Get up.”

“Um, okay,” Sokka said, sitting up.

“Here,” Zuko said. “It’s tea. It’ll wake you up.”

“Thanks, but I think I’m good with the adrenaline boost for now,” Sokka mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

“Whas happening?” Aang yawned and flipped so he was face-up.

“We’re having a council meeting,” Zuko glared.

——————————————————————

Zuko looked around the Jasmine. He’d carefully moved as many benches and tables as he could into a circle shape in the middle of the room, much to Toph’s sensory discomfort as the heavy wood dragged along the ground. It was now a little facsimile of a council room, and he’d woken everybody up and gathered them around the table. Iroh was in the back room tidying up or something, and Toph and Aikoyo had insisted on standing on guard near the doorway in case the Dai Li decided to drop in, but everyone else was in position.

“Does everyone have a cup of tea?” Zuko asked.

“This tastes gross,” Sokka stuck out his tongue.

“It’s not supposed to taste good, it’s supposed to help everyone stay awake and _focused,_ ” Zuko said, steepling his fingers on the table top. “The time is currently 20.2 degrees. In Earth Kingdom time, I’d guess that’s about three o’clock. As efficiently as possible, I’m going to tell you everything relevant I can remember about the Dai Li, and then we’re going to make a plan. By sundown, we’re going to know _exactly_ how we’re going to rescue Azula and stop Foman from taking over the world, and by tomorrow’s sunrise, we’re going to be in the middle of executing that plan. Drink your tea, and _listen up._ ”

“Wow,” Katara said, raising her eyebrows. “I’m starting to believe this _is_ the guy who hunted us all over the world. I can’t wait to hear what you remembered if it turned you from anxious-pile-of-paranoia into man-with-a-plan.”

“I remembered I’m a stubborn bitch,” Zuko said, gritting his teeth.

——————————————————————

“That’s all I’ve got on the Dai Li—well, everything relevant,” Zuko finished his story, just as most of the group made it about halfway through their tea cups. “No need to catch me up on what you said to me while I was still brainwashed, because I have _those_ memories back too. So. Wherever they were keeping me, that’s probably where Azula is, right? It can’t be far from the seaside palace. I need everyone to tell me what they know about the city and the surrounding area,” Zuko said. “Did anyone actually map the underground tunnels? That’s where we need to start looking.”

“An attempt was made,” Toph said. She’d moved closer to the table, but she was still standing—still on the alert. “As much as I hate to say it, I can’t do it alone—I need Katara or Aang with me, someone who can waterbend.”

“Great,” Zuko said. “As much as I’d like to give the order to “start doing that,” it’s Sokka’s turn to talk.”

“Sorry, what?” Sokka looked up.

“You’re the guy who makes the plans,” Zuko said. “How are we doing this? We need to rescue Azula, find Foman, and shut down the Dai Li, permanently. Tell us what you’re thinking.”

Katara cleared her throat. “From what you’ve told us, I think rescuing Azula would force them to come out of hiding. They’d lose her as the face of their “take over the world” operation, and they’d have to try it openly,” Katara said. “But we already took down Long Feng, and that didn’t destabilize the Dai Li. We can’t expect that removing Foman will do it, either.”

“What other options do we have? We can’t kill everyone who’s ever worked for the Dai Li,” Aang said nervously.

“Can we use their own weapons against them? “Brainwash” as many agents as we can into forgetting the Dai Li and working with us, instead?” Aikoyo suggested.

“That’s a good idea, but brainwashing doesn’t always stick,” Zuko shook his head.

“Wait…maybe that’s…I’m getting an idea,” Sokka squinted. “The Dai Li brainwashes people, that’s all based on fear, right? If that’s how the Dai Li control people, maybe that’s how they run their organization, too. If we can get at the root of that fear (but I don’t know how), we might be able to break up the Dai Li, or at least convince most of the agents to reconsider their career choices.”

“What are we supposed to do, offer them group therapy?” Mai rolled her eyes.

“I might have to agree with Mai that violence could be our only option,” Zuko said, clenching his fist on the table.

“I was genuinely suggesting therapy, Zuko,” Mai sighed. “Though it wouldn’t be effective until _after_ we can stop them from actively attacking us.”

“I’m not going to be that kind of Fire Lord. I’m not going to be that kind of _person._ We can imprison them, we can offer them honorable deaths in battle, but we aren’t going to _torture_ anyone,” Zuko said.

“I know you’re angry, but—“ Aang started.

“I don’t want to hear it, Avatar,” Zuko snapped, cutting him off. “Of _course_ I’m angry. When I helped you fight my own _sister,_ you told me she was going to be safe, and that people were going to take care of her. I _told_ you I was worried about her. Everyone told me there was nothing wrong. Obviously there _was_ something wrong. I _told_ you I didn’t even want to _imagine_ what kind of torture “therapy” was going to turn out to be, and you _all_ told me that there was nothing to worry about. _There was something to worry about.”_ Zuko breathed heavily, trying to maintain his control.

“What the Dai Li did to you wasn’t therapy,” Aang said. “Zuko, I just wanted to help…”

“I know you wanted to help,” Zuko spoke as calmly as he could. “Therapy is supposed to make you feel better? Supposed to help you forget about the trauma your father put you through, so you can live your life? I _did_ forget about my father, and I _was_ living a life, and apparently you won’t let me do _that_ either, you just dragged me back into _this_ stupid world of “being aware of what’s around you” or whatever, and being in _pain_. You know, Lee might have been a brainwashed pile of goo, and I know it was all a stupid illusion, but it felt like I was actually _happy._ ”

“I’m sorry,” Aang choked out. “I didn’t mean for anything bad to happen.”

“Well, sometimes life is just like that,” Zuko spat out the words like they tasted bad. Aang stood up, tears in his eyes, and left the tea shop. Katara followed him. Zuko took some deep breaths and unclenched his fists. “Sokka, we need the guy who makes the plans. Come up with something. I’m going to go meditate.”

“Who put _you_ in charge?” Sokka huffed, looking at the front door after Aang’s retreating shadow.

“ _Some_ people busted into my dad’s secret underground prison, knocked me unconscious, and metal-bent all the bars away. Those _same people_ dragged me to the _market_ to _shop_ while Fire Nation citizens were in danger and people all over the world were still getting hurt by a war my father caused. Sometimes it seems like nobody but me is trying to _fix_ anything. I’m putting myself in charge,” Zuko said. He stood up. “Like I said, I’m going to go meditate. Somebody come get me when Aang gets back. Until then, I don’t want to be disturbed.”

Zuko stormed into the back room and closed the door behind him. He slid to the floor, back against the wall, and pressed his palms into his face. _Breathe. Calm down._

“How was your meeting?” Iroh asked. He was sipping tea at the little table.

“Oh. I forgot you were in here,” Zuko groaned, making an effort to stand up.

“Please, don’t mind me,” Iroh smiled. He set the cup down and stood up. “Has the magical power of group hugs already changed all your coping mechanisms, or would you prefer to be alone?”

“Yes, leave me alone. No. Maybe…Yes,” Zuko said, burying his face in his knees.

“Sailors who leave shore without a compass return with wrecked ships,” Iroh said. He moved over to Zuko and sat on the floor next to him. Iroh rubbed Zuko’s shoulder with one hand.

“I don’t want to hear any more proverbs, Uncle,” Zuko sighed. “This isn’t the Wani. A lot has happened since then.”

“I know,” Iroh said quietly, still gently touching Zuko’s shoulder, reminding him of his presence.

“I just…I feel awful,” Zuko said, still hunched over his knees. “Azula is out there somewhere, suffering, because of me.”

“It’s not your fault,” Iroh said.

“Every time I think that might be true, it’s just a reminder that I really _am_ nothing, that I’m useless and I’ll never be able to save her,” Zuko said.

“That doesn’t sound like my nephew,” Iroh smiled sadly. “That sounds like my brother.”

“Foman asked me what I was like before Ozai broke me,” Zuko said quietly. “Do you think he did? I mean…do you think there’s enough of me left?”

“Left for what?” Iroh asked.

“All I want to do is…I don’t know. I’m supposed to be Fire Lord, I’m supposed to find Azula and save her, I’m supposed to—“

“Shhh,” Iroh said, ruffling Zuko’s hair. “That sounds like a heavy burden to bear. If only you had anyone who could help you…”

“I know they’re trying to help, Uncle, but…it’s not good enough. Maybe nothing is good enough. Maybe I would have been better off dead.” Zuko refused to look up. He just knew if he did, Iroh would be making the sad face, and Zuko didn’t think he could handle that right now.

“I’ll offer you the best advice I can,” Iroh said. “Don’t make plans. Don’t be the Fire Lord. Don’t be Azula’s Rescuer. Just be Zuko. That’s always been good enough before.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Zuko said. “We don’t have enough information, even with the addition of the stuff Aang helped me remember. If we go up against the Dai Li, we’ll get killed, and they’ll take over the world.”

“Then I suppose you need to get more information,” Iroh smiled. There was a knock from the main tea shop door. “I’ll get it,” Iroh stood up. He opened the door. “Ah, Miss Bei Fong. Please, come in.”

“I said don’t want to talk to anyone right now,” Zuko said. “Go away, Toph.”

“You really don’t know me if you think that’s gonna work,” Toph said. She flopped on the floor next to him. “I have an idea that’s going to fix that _and_ help us rescue Azula.”

“What is it?” Zuko looked up.

“It’s time for _us_ to go on a life-changing field trip,” Toph grinned.

“I really don’t have time for this right now,” Zuko sighed. “We don’t have time to—“

“A-buh-buh!” Toph held her finger to his lips. “Listen first, _then_ tell me why we can’t do it, then we do it anyway.”

“Ugh,” Zuko mumbled past her shushing finger.

“Great!” Toph sat up. “First, a pop quiz. Sokka is the guy who makes plans, Katara is the healer-slash-team-mom, Aang is the Avatar…so what are you?”

“…The bad guy? The guy who spent years of his life trying to hunt Aang down and capture him,” Zuko groaned.

“Close, but wrong answer!” Toph smiled. “What’s your role on the team?”

“I don’t have one,” Zuko said. “At best, I’m the guy who’s gonna be stuck ruling the Fire Nation after this is all over.”

“Come on, you’ve _gotta_ know the answer to this one,” Toph pulled on his arm. “What do you _do?_ ”

“…Hunt the Avatar?” Zuko furrowed his brow and really _looked_ at her. “This isn’t making me feel any better.”

“Well, that’s getting closer,” Toph smiled. “Your uncle has told me stories about you, and there were stories about the Blue Spirit all _over_ Ba Sing Se!”

“That could have been anyone,” Zuko grumbled.

“I’m a lie detector, and also, Aang told me it was you,” Toph said.

“Great,” Zuko sighed. “Your plan is to make fun of me?”

“That’s _gonna_ be the plan if you keep saying stupid stuff,” Toph punched him lightly in the arm. “Fine, I’ll tell you the answer. You’re the one who’s good at tracking and finding stuff that other people can’t. And you said it yourself, you’re the stubborn one—you won’t give up until you get what you’re looking for.”

“Okay,” Zuko said slowly. “So…what’s happening?”

“We need more information about the Dai Li,” Toph said. “We need to know _what_ they’re doing, exactly, when, where, and why. For our field trip, we’re going to collect that information and bring it back here.”

“If I’m supposed to be the “finding stuff” guy, how come it’s a field trip for both of us?” Zuko frowned.

“Did you forget _my_ role on the team? I’m the muscle, obviously,” Toph said. “When we run into trouble, I’ll handle punching the bad guys while _you_ read documents or whatever.”

“If we run into trouble, I want payback for what they did to me, and what they’re doing to Azula,” Zuko glared.

“Then we’ll have to make sure we run into trouble, won’t we?” Toph grinned evilly.

“Even if I wanted to, what would we even do?” Zuko sighed. “Sokka’s the one who makes plans.”

“We’re not making _plans,”_ Toph scoffed. “This isn’t that kind of field trip. Where would you go for information about the Dai Li?”

  
“The complex under Lake Laogai is probably the best source of information, but it’s too far away. I’d look in the seaside palace and try to find whatever Foman is using as an office,” Zuko shrugged.

“Then that’s where we’ll go!” Toph said. “Do you need anything, or are you ready now?”

“What, we’re going _now?”_ Zuko asked.

“Katara and Aang are probably making out somewhere and talking about “feelings” and “hope” or whatever,” Toph said. “We’ve got some time before your next council meeting.”

“…I don’t have my swords,” Zuko said. “I didn’t think I’d need them to visit Azula.”

“Then you’ve got your firebending and I’ve got my earthbending and that’s _good enough!_ ” Toph grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet.

“Okay,” Zuko said, warming up to the idea. “Let’s go, before I realize this is a bad idea.”

——————————————————————

“I think going through the forest is the best route,” Zuko sighed. “If we go underground, you won’t be able to see as well.”

“You’d be my seeing-eye firebender,” Toph said.

“If we go underground, it’s more likely I’m going to freak out about this,” Zuko shook his head. “We’re just going to walk around the seaside palace, bust through the wall as quietly as we can, and sneak in.”

“You’re the boss,” Toph shrugged.

“You can use your bending to tell when there are agents nearby, right?” Zuko said. “That’ll be useful. We want to avoid them as much as we can.”

“When we _do_ bump into them, we’re beating them up, right?” Toph asked.

“Yes, but…we should hold off on that until after we find the information we need,” Zuko paused thoughtfully. “Here’s an idea—You could hide, and I could pretend to still be brainwashed, and we could try and trick them? After all, they let Lee out, to just wander around town…it might work.”

“That seems like a last-resort kind of option,” Toph said. “Let’s call that “Plan Bad Idea.”

“Fair enough,” Zuko shrugged. “Then we avoid agents as much as we can until _after_ we have the files we need.”

“Got it,” Toph nodded.

——————————————————————

Shu Gi sifted through Foman’s papers for what felt like the thousandth time. The little piece of scrap paper— _They die before they break the influence. I trust your discretion on when it will be necessary —_ sat where Shu Gi had left it, pinned to the wall out of the way. Of course Foman _claimed_ to trust him, but had carefully taken everything with him that might have been _useful._ Files on the brainwashed Fire Nation royal family, maps and charts organizing their plans, basically everything of any more value than a loose receipt or shopping list had disappeared when Foman left. It was a frustrating puzzle, and Shu Gi hated the position he was in. As Foman’s right hand man, he was in danger if and when the Avatar came after the Dai Li. However, if Foman didn’t trust him, there was more danger from the Dai Li themselves than from the Avatar’s mercy. As a result, Shu Gi had decided to assess the situation for himself before deciding how to proceed regarding the tea shop. But Foman had taken the papers, so the only option was subterfuge and spying on Zuko and Iroh, who were being all creepy and weird bouncing the edges of the influence off each other down there. And Foman had taken most of the agents, so if Shu Gi wanted information, he’d have to get it himself, and Zuko and Iroh were being all creepy bouncing the influence off each other. Only four days after Foman’s departure, and Shu Gi was already losing control. He had neglected checking up on the tea shop, but what was the worst that could happen? After what Foman had done to Zuko, the kid had a pretty big incentive _not_ to break the influence. Shu Gi shuddered at the memory, right as a curious rumbling sensation rippled through the room. Something was amiss. Something not-too-far away, but something big. Maybe the blind little earthbender was back, Zuko’s friend. Well, if so, the patrols had taken care of her last time.

Shu Gi sat in Foman’s chair and put his feet up on the desk. Maybe it could be to his benefit if Foman had ceased to trust him. After all, Long Feng’s second-in-command had disappeared as soon as Long Feng. Better for Shu Gi to distance himself from Foman’s doomed plans while he could, and then swoop into the power vacuum later. Unless the Dai Li won the battle. This was the worst.

——————————————————————

“Okay, _please_ don’t make any sarcastic comments, because I _did_ try to rescue you, but there were a _lot_ more guys the last time I was here,” Toph said.

“I could feel that through the walls,” Zuko said, looking around. “Where did you try and break in? You were almost on top of me. There was a rumbling, then it got further away…hey, there was an earthquake last week, while I was still Lee! Was that you?”

“I had to go back for the war balloon, or how was I going to get home?” Toph shrugged. “I spent a week hiking to the nearest city, and a week back, then straight to Caldera to pick up the gang and straight back here.”

“Oh,” Zuko said. “I…guess that makes sense.”

“What did you think was happening?” Toph asked. “I mean, you don’t have to talk about it—“

“Kinda hard to keep track of the time without the sun,” Zuko laughed awkwardly. “But I knew you were coming for me. I figured Aang and everybody would be coming for me, just, you know. I think I hoped you guys would be done destroying the Dai Li by the time you broke me out, and then I wouldn’t have to do anything but help Azula recover.”

“You thought we were having a two week battle with the Dai Li right over your head?” Toph blinked.

“Better than thinking you’d all given up on me,” Zuko sighed. “But I guess you guys knew they were going to let me go and just waited for that to happen, right? I mean it makes sense, I’m a much less valuable prisoner than Azula—“

“Hey. Sparky.” Toph snapped her fingers in his face. “I just _told_ you. We got here as soon as we could, nobody would’ve _waited around_ for you to be _let go._ We’re a cracking-skulls kinda gang!”

“Aang isn’t the type to crack skulls,” Zuko rolled his eyes.

“Aang’s not here,” Toph cracked her knuckles. “I busted in over there, the first time. I think. Should we try it?”

“Wait,” Zuko said, analyzing the wall. “Not here. We have a better chance of getting deeper inside the palace if we go around this way, this side is just hallways and courtyards.”

“Hey! Who’s down there?”

Zuko and Toph looked up. On top of the wall was one of the Dai Li agents, on patrol.

“How did you not spot him?” Zuko whispered.

“I’m doing my best, give me a break,” Toph groaned.

“Uh, it’s Lee, from the tea shop!” Zuko yelled up at the guard.

“Hey! You’re not supposed to be here!” the guard yelled. “Stay where you are! You are being detained for questioning!”

“Great,” Zuko said.

“Told ‘ya the “pretend to be Lee” plan was a bad idea,” Toph said.

“You were right,” Zuko shrugged. “Take care of him?”

Toph braced herself against the ground and punched a column out of the top of the wall, launching the guard into the air and over their heads into the brush.

“Should we bust him up, or keep going?” Toph asked.

“Nah, there’s more where he came from,” Zuko said. “So, remind me how you _failed_ to rescue me? Was it really too much for the “world’s greatest earthbender” to take out _one_ guard? You need an audience or something?”

“I said no sarcastic comments. And I _said_ there were more agents the last time I tried to break in!” Toph punched Zuko in the arm.

“Yeah, yeah,” Zuko laughed. “Come on, let’s go around this way.”

——————————————————————

“It’s suspicious, is all I’m saying,” Toph said. “Hurry up with those files.”

“I’m reading as fast as I can,” Zuko said. “You’re the person who said this was a field trip, it’s _your_ fault we didn’t bring anyone else with working eyeballs.”

“Harsh,” Toph said. “Just hurry up.”

“I broke into the Pohuai Stronghold and read Zhao’s mail and he never even knew I was there,” Zuko grumbled. “You think this is the first time I’ve ever tried breaking-and-entering for intel? _Years_ when the Navy was expressly forbidden from talking to me…you have to get updates on troop movements and borders _somehow,_ like I’m an idiot who’s never stolen secret documents from a secure location—“

“Less snark, more reading. I get it, you’ve done this before,” Toph said.

“What are you worried about? We should be _glad_ this place is empty,” Zuko said.

“There were at least five times the patrols last time I was here, it was _crawling_ with agents, they were even in the trees where I couldn’t sense them. Where did they all go?” Toph groaned.

“You may have a point. Nothing in here looks that valuable. Wherever they went, they took their secrets with them,” Zuko sighed. “Wait, this looks like something—“

“Shh!” Toph hissed. “Someone’s coming.”

——————————————————————

Shu Gi was certain he’d left the lights out when he’d left Foman’s office. He opened the door a little bit more and stepped inside. No sooner did he do so than his arms twisted behind his back with rock and he felt a blast of heat. There was a fist at his temple.

“Don’t move,” Zuko said.

“And don’t try to earthbend,” a voice added. It was the earthbender girl, Zuko’s friend. Toph Bei Fong, if he remembered correctly. “You’re outmatched,” she continued.

“Where is my sister?” Zuko hissed, pressing his fist into Shu Gi’s head.

“All right, ease off,” Toph said. “Fine, you can be bad cop.”

——————————————————————

“You’re going to tell us everything you know, and I’ll _know_ if you’re lying,” Toph poked Shu Gi in the chest. They’d moved him into the chair and Toph bound his wrists with earthbending. Zuko stood next to her, quietly fuming and flicking his flames on and off angrily. Unfortunately, Shu Gi wasn’t very intimidated, Toph could tell.

“The Dai Li and the Bei Fong family have not always been at odds,” Shu Gi nodded his head solemnly. “I believe one of your great uncles was among our ranks. What can I tell you, miss?”

“Stop acting like this is a pleasant conversation over _tea,_ ” Zuko glared. “Do you think I don’t remember what you did to me?”

“Under Foman’s orders, I can assure you,” Shu Gi said. “Perhaps we can come to an agreement.”

“Yeah, I’ve got an idea,” Zuko snorted. “Tell us what we want to know, and I won’t _kill_ you right now.”

“You heard him,” Toph gestured at Zuko. “Where’s Princess Azula?”

“She is in Caldera with Foman and a majority of the Dai Li,” Shu Gi said. “By now, they should be set up in the palace, as they planned.”

“ _WHAT?”_ Zuko accidentally spat flame as he spoke. Shu Gi didn’t even flinch.

“Tell us everything,” Toph said, clenching her fist.

“As you must know already, Foman’s intention is to use Azula as a figurehead while the Dai Li takes over the four nations. They intend to use the Fire Nation palace in Caldera as a base to “legitimize” the operation. All four nations will be united under the Fire Nation flag, and the Dai Li will control the population through the same methods that served us in Ba Sing Se,” Shu Gi said.

“I don’t even know how to respond to that!” Zuko spluttered.

“He’s not lying,” Toph grimaced. “Or he could be good enough to fool my senses. Azula was. Is. Shu Gi, say something that we know isn’t true.”

“Um, like what? …How about “I am totally comfortable in this situation and not at all afraid for my life,” Shu Gi said.

“Okay, lie,” Toph said. “It seems like I _can_ tell if he’s lying. Which means…”

“Azula’s in trouble. _What did you do to her?!?_ ” Zuko grabbed the front of Shu Gi’s robes and _pulled._

“Easy with the fire hands,” Toph said, gently pulling Zuko away.

“Thank you, Miss Bei Fong,” Shu Gi coughed. “I do think I can be useful to you—“

“ _Prove it,_ ” Toph nailed him with a glare. “What did you do to Azula?”

“Per Foman’s orders, she underwent the influence before they moved her,” Shu Gi said.

Zuko was suddenly on fire. Just as suddenly, it went out.

“You okay?” Toph asked.

“I will be fine,” Zuko said tightly. “I’m going to stand outside for a few moments. Keep him talking.”

“Got it,” Toph said. Zuko left the room.

“I agree with you that Foman is an unsuitable leader for the Dai Li,” Shu Gi said. “His plan is unfeasible, and dangerous. After you remove him, I can promise you that _I_ will be a much more agreeable partner, and the Dai Li will act only with your approval, Miss Bei Fong.”

Toph cracked her knuckles and grinned. “I think you’ve made a mistake, Shu Gi. We won’t be updating the Dai Li, we’ll be _dismantling_ them. And now that Zuko’s left the room, _I_ get to be the bad cop.”

——————————————————————

“Okay,” Toph emerged from the office. “Shu Gi is unconscious.”

“Good,” Zuko said. “After we save Azula, we should put him in prison. I guess we should reform the prison system before that, though. Maybe we should send him to the Earth Kingdom? But if we send all of them to the same place they might still organize…”

“Your voice is making plans, but your tone sounds like a person who wants to do some violence without thinking about the repercussions,” Toph said, patting his shoulder.

“Very much, yes. Is that bad?” Zuko looked down at her.

“Probably, but I’m down if you are,” Toph said.

“Did you get anything else useful out of him?” Zuko asked.

“I’ve got a location for _their_ secret prison. The tunnels are natural, but they co-opted them specifically to hold you, Iroh, and Azula. Shu Gi said Foman stopped trusting him with details of the invasion plans a while ago, though, so we’ve only got a general outline,” Toph said.

“I guess we should bring that back to the others,” Zuko rubbed the back of his neck.

“Wanna beat up everyone left in the palace, first?” Toph asked.

“Let’s take ‘em down,” Zuko grimaced.

——————————————————————

“Here’s an idea,” Suki said. “Aang and Katara left to make out, maybe that’s what Zuko and Toph are doing, too.”

“Okay, _ew,_ ” Sokka groaned. “That’s my _sister_ you’re talking about.”

“All I’m saying is, you can call it a “field trip” all you want, we know what’s up,” Suki grinned.

“What happens on a field trip stays on a field trip, okay?” Sokka said. “If that’s what they’re doing, I _don’t_ want to know about it.”

“What, you jealous because you didn’t make out with Zuko on _your_ field trip?” Mai raised an eyebrow.

“No!” Sokka spluttered.

“So you _did_ kiss him on your field trip?” Ty Lee gasped, eyes wide.

“NO!” Sokka blushed. The front door burst open.

“We’re back,” Toph said.

“You’re hurt!” Iroh rushed to the door.

“We’re fine, uncle,” Zuko sighed. The two of them were covered in dirt, dust, and a few scrapes/bruises.

“You said you were fine when Zhao blew you half to hell,” Iroh fussed, checking Zuko’s head for bumps.

“No, we’re really fine, I promise,” Zuko coughed, dusting himself off. “Are Aang and Katara back yet?”

“Not yet,” Aikoyo said.

“I’m going to change my clothes,” Zuko said, walking into the back room. “Shit. Everything in there is green, isn’t it?”

“Dibs!” Toph said. “I need to change, too.”

“Where were you?” Sokka asked.

“What happens on a field trip stays on a field trip,” Toph grinned, doing finger guns at him.

“We’ve got some more intel,” Zuko said, already taking off his shirt. “Let us know when Aang and Katara get back, and we’ll have another meeting about it.”

“Nice work, Sparky,” Toph offered Zuko a fist bump.

“You weren’t so bad yourself, Short Stuff,” Zuko bumped her fist.

“I got three more than you, though,” Toph grinned.

“In your _dreams!_ ” Zuko laughed.

——————————————————————

“So we’re going back,” Zuko said. “While you were coming here to rescue me, they moved Azula back into Caldera. Shu Gi said they were going to the palace, so they must not know it was destroyed. That gives us a small advantage, I hope. They’ll probably relocate to Long Feng’s old hideout. We need to get Azula to safety, deprogram her, and _then_ worry about how we’ll take down the Dai Li. If we don’t kill them, we need somewhere to keep them. Earth Kingdom prison might be our best best until I can reform the Fire Nation prison system.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Sokka shrugged. “Guess we _didn’t_ need the “guy who makes plans” this time.”

“Let’s get to the war balloons,” Iroh said. “The sooner we get back, the better.”

“Azula needs us,” Zuko said firmly. “I won’t abandon her again.”


	10. Chapter 10

They flew over the landscape. With Zuko, Aikoyo, and Iroh taking turns at the engine, the balloon managed a remarkable speed.

“I didn’t even realize you could bend until you took us to the seaside palace,” Katara said while Aikoyo was taking a break. “Why don’t you firebend more often?”

“That’s partially my training from when I was one of Ozai’s guards,” Aikoyo said. “You can’t have the palace undefended, which means the guards need to be firebenders, but Ozai hated anyone other than his family to bend in the palace walls, which means we needed other skills as well. Any of my guards would be just as comfortable with a sword as we would be deflecting a firebending attack.”

“Unfair,” Sokka pouted. “Some of us had to learn weapons and _didn’t_ have bending to fall back on.”

“That’s why I learned the dao blades,” Zuko chimed in. “I mean, also because I was never as good at firebending as Azula, but…you know. “The guards can firebend but they don’t because it was supposed to be disrespectful to my father…” It wasn’t hard to pretend I was doing the same thing.”

“I wonder if there are benders training with weapons all over the world,” Aang rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “The Fire Nation can’t be the only ones to—"

“The other nations weren’t trying to attack the world,” Zuko pointed out.

“But the Dai Li _is_ trying to attack the world,” Toph said. “They’ve probably got non-bending skills too. We just haven’t seen them yet.”

“We don’t really know _what_ to expect when we go up against them,” Aang said.

“We can expect they aren’t treating Azula very well,” Zuko scowled. He stood up. “It’s my turn at the engine. We need to go faster.”

——————————————————————

As they moved closer to Caldera, they began to see a trail of black smoke on the horizon.

“Is it coming from the palace?” Mai peered over the edge of the balloon.

“There can’t be much of anything left there to burn,” Zuko frowned.

“That’s where we’ll go,” Sokka said. “Let’s land near whatever is causing… _that._ We need to figure out what it is.”

“It’s Azula,” Iroh whispered. “I hope she isn’t doing what I _think_ she’s doing.”

Zuko grunted and threw another fireball into the engine.

“Don’t burn yourself out,” Aikoyo rubbed Zuko’s shoulder. “You’ll need your energy when we get there.”

“When we get there, I’ll _find_ more energy, somehow,” Zuko grimaced.

——————————————————————

As they flew over the burnt remains of the palace, the cloud of smoke grew, covering more of the sky. The ash tingled with electricity where it touched their skin. The air grew colder, and the wind picked up. Aang took his glider and went for a short flight, trying to scout ahead.

“I can’t see anything,” Aang said as he returned to the balloon. “Whatever is making the smoke is completely invisible from the air. Try to land over there, we might be able to see what’s going on.”

“That’s the edge of Caldera Square,” Aikoyo said. “It’s a courtyard right outside the palace wall, where public announcements and events are held. Did you see any people, Aang?”

“There was too much smoke,” Aang shook his head.

——————————————————————

The balloon half-landed, half-crashed towards the back of Caldera Square. Smoke oozed along the ground and drifted lazily through the air. Ash floated by, sparking blue static where it brushed against something.

“Azula is doing this,” Zuko whispered, dragging his hand through the thick smog. “I thought that was just a story.”

“What’s happening?” Aang coughed.

“There was a legend that there were those in Caldera who refused to serve Sozin,” Iroh said. “It is said that Sozin blotted out the sky with ash and fire, so that everyone would know he held dominion even over Agni’s power. He refused to lift the cloud until the Fire Nation swore to obey him.”

“I can fix that,” Aang said, spinning his glider over his head. The smoky air moved sluggishly out of the way, but as soon as he stopped, it coalesced around them again.

“I’ve never seen a firebender strong enough to make this much ash, I doubt even the dragons could do this,” Iroh said.

“It’s…it’s horrible,” Sokka whispered.

“It’s just like it was before the raids, only… _worse,_ ” Katara stared wide-eyed at the scene. There was so much smoke, you could hardly see ten feet away from you.

“All right,” Suki said, ripping the edges of her skirt into shreds. “We need to protect our noses and mouths. Katara, get these fabrics wet. Everyone tie it around your face, try not to breathe it in.”

“Ouch!” Toph flinched. “I just got shocked!”

“I did too,” Mai said. “That’s Azula’s lightning. I’d know the feeling anywhere.”

“It’s not touching me,” Zuko said. “Look.” He waved his hand through the ash, and the blue sparks danced around him but didn’t make contact.

“Are you redirecting it?” Iroh asked.

“I don’t know,” Zuko furrowed his brow. “I don’t think so.”

They tied on the makeshift masks and started off through the smoke. Aang walked in front, clearing a little bubble with his airbending, and the firebenders walked on the sides of the group, trying to bend the electric charges away. Suddenly, they burst through what felt like a wall of fresh air, stumbling into an area blessedly free of the smoke. It looked like the inside of a bubble, as they watched black smoke swirl around the outside of the dome. Inside the cleared space was a huge crowd of people in Fire Nation red.

“Look,” Toph pointed. “Dai Li agents.”

“I don’t see anything,” Sokka squinted.

“There—there’s someone in green over there,” Katara pointed.

“It’s hard to tell…there’s so many people…but I think the entire dome is ringed with agents,” Toph said.

“They’re keeping everybody inside, but _why?_ ” Aang asked.

“Let’s go deeper in,” Zuko said.

“Uh, that sounds like a bad idea!” Sokka said.

“I think it’s a worse idea to stand here and wait to get spotted,” Zuko said. “It’ll be harder for the Dai Li to find us if we’re lost in the crowd.”

“Fair enough,” Sokka shrugged.

They pushed through the crowd as best they could.

“Is that Prince Zuko?” somebody asked.

Zuko pulled his cloth mask over his eyes. “Nope,” he said. “And even if it was, shut up about it.”

“Toph!” somebody yelled.

“Tuyi!” Toph bolted through the crowd, pushing people out of the way. “Tuyi! Are you okay?”

“Toph,” Tuyi smiled, hugging her. “My dad and I are both here. We’re fine. How are you?”

“We’re okay,” Toph smiled. “We found Zuko _and_ Iroh, and came back as soon as we could. What’s happened? Do you know where Princess Azula is?”

“Not long after you left, the Dai Li arrived. They went door to door, rounding people up and bringing them here, under orders from Fire Lord Azula,” Tuyi scowled. “Anyone who tries to escape gets a rock to the face. Every so often they make announcements about loyalty and submitting to the order of things, but I haven’t seen Her Royal Tyrant herself, yet.”

“Azula is being mind-controlled by the Dai Li,” Toph said. “We have to find their leader, Foman, and stop them.”

“You should try the side of the dome closer to the palace,” Tuyi said. She looked up at the black, smoky sky. “Drat. They make announcements regularly, but without the sun, I’ve lost track of time. I couldn’t tell you when the next one is.”

“Thanks, Tuyi,” Toph hugged her again.

“Guess I wasn’t much safer in Caldera, was I?” Tuyi smiled awkwardly. “Go get ‘em, Toph.”

“This way,” Zuko grumbled from under his mask. “I think we can cut through the crowd and get closer to the front.”

“You can take that off now, it’s just supposed to protect your lungs from smoke,” Suki said.

“I do _not_ need to get recognized right now,” Zuko hissed. “Come on.”

At Aang’s suggestion, they split up. Sokka, Suki, and Mai went left; Katara, Ty Lee, and Toph went right; Aikoyo and Iroh stayed with Tuyi and her father; and Zuko and Aang headed for the front.

“This is just like the time we helped earthbenders break out of Fire Nation prison,” Aang said. “We’ll convince everyone to rise up against the Dai Li, and together we’ll—“

“We’ll do nothing,” Zuko groaned, still behind the mask. “Azula is blocking out the _sun._ No firebender is going to try to fight her. You’d have to be crazy.”

“We could at least try,” Aang said.

“I’ve got an idea,” Zuko said. “But you’re not going to like it.”

“What is it?” Aang asked.

“If I tell you, you’ll try to talk me out of it,” Zuko said.

“Zuko, we need to plan this stuff _together,_ ” Aang pulled on his sleeve.

“It’ll all work out,” Zuko said, in a calm voice that suggested he did not at all believe it would work out.

“Zuko, we—“ Aang started, but then a loud ringing echoed through the dome. People began to fall quiet at the sound of the gong.

“Someone’s talking,” Aang whispered. “Can you hear it?”

“No,” Zuko whispered back. “Let’s get closer.”

They forced their way through the crowd until they could see the palace wall—what was left of it, at any rate. When Azula had returned the first time, she’d burned it to the ground, and the gates that had once stood tall were gone, giving them a clear view of the charred, blackened ruins behind the walls. Sitting just outside the gates was a stone platform, raised above Caldera Square. Dai Li agents stood in front of and around it, facing the crowd with fists raised, ready to earthbend. Atop the platform stood an agent with a gong, another reading aloud from a stack of scrolls, and Foman, standing next to Azula.

She sat atop the Fire Throne, which they’d somehow moved here from the throne room. It looked the worse for wear, and it was missing chunks out of the back and base. Her face was turned up towards the sky, her eyes and mouth lit with orange embers. Black smoke spiraled up and away, out of her nose and mouth into the eerie dome. Every few seconds, she twitched and the smoke would gutter for a moment before smoothing out again. Foman was standing next to her. They could see him moving his lips but they couldn’t hear what he was saying.

The agent reading the scrolls yelled to be heard throughout the dome. “By order of Fire Lord Azula, it shall be now as it was in Sozin’s time! Fire Lord Azula is blessed by Agni, and those who oppose her are doomed to fall! Stand before her and declare your loyalty!”

“Oh, Agni,” Zuko squeezed his eyes shut, gathering his strength. “I’m doing it.”

“What?” Aang looked over.

Zuko ripped off his protective mask and pushed through the last few rows of the crowd, marching into the cleared area in front of the dais. People on both sides of Aang began to gasp as they realized who it was.

“Is that Prince Zuko?”

“I thought he was still banished.”

“ _I_ thought he was dead!”

“Azula,” Zuko scowled up at the throne. “I say you’re _not_ blessed by Agni. _I_ oppose you. I challenge you to an Agni Kai!”

“Zuko,” Aang groaned, waving his hands. “This is a bad idea!”

Zuko didn’t hear or he didn’t care. Azula seemed not to notice his challenge at first, she just stared into the sky and kept breathing smoke.

“You call _that_ firebending?” Zuko laughed. “A two-year old can make smoke, Azula. I thought you were strong enough to make _blue_ flames. I guess not! You want the throne? Prove you’re strong enough to keep it!”

The crowd was buzzing.

“He’s _alive?_ ”

“He’s crazy if he wants to have an Agni Kai with her, she’s _blocked out Agni!”_

“Do you think he can beat her?”

“That’s a death sentence!”

“Zuko!” Aang hissed, still waving his arms.

“If you want to hurt anyone else, you’re gonna have to go through me,” Zuko glared defiantly, and Aang wasn’t sure if he was directing it at Azula or at Foman.

Foman leaned down, close to Azula’s ear, and whispered for a few seconds. It may as well have been an eternity as Zuko and the crowd waited for the response.

With a _whoosh_ of hot air, Azula coughed a final blast of smoke into the air. Her head fell forward to her chest like she’d been been hit with something, but just as quickly she began to look up again, with marionette-like jerky movements. She rose unsteadily to her feet.

“I’m afraid Lord Azula declines your challenge,” Foman grinned.

“You can’t do that!” someone yelled. The crowd was starting to mutter amongst themselves angrily—since the day of the comet, they’d bounced from one Fire Lord to another, chaos and anarchy reigning more than any one person. It seemed the Fire Nation was getting sick of it.

“If you refuse my challenge, you forfeit,” Zuko scowled, “in which case you’re welcome to abandon the Fire Nation _again._ Sorry, we haven’t rebuilt the palace since the _last_ time you left, so you’ll have to make do with _out_ a temper tantrum this time.”

“Zuko’s the Fire Lord! He was the first born!”

“Zuko was _banished,_ at best he’s _ex-_ royalty.”

“He’s right, smoke is for little kids! Zuko _is_ the only one strong enough to be the Fire Lord!”

“What about the Dragon of the West?”

Foman sized up the crowd. “If we accept your challenge, when you lose, you will tell the people to accept the transfer of power, and we will _consider_ not executing you,” Foman said.

“Agreed,” Zuko nodded.

Foman turned back to Azula, still swaying gently on the dais. “Tell him you accept his challenge to Agni Kai.”

Azula blinked and continued to sway, not quite steady on her feet.

“She accepts,” Foman turned back to Zuko.

“Get rid of the dome. We fight at noon tomorrow,” Zuko said.

“Have your airbender remove the dome if it bothers you so much,” Foman shrugged. He took Azula by the shoulders and began guiding her towards the ruins of the palace. The rest of the Dai Li abandoned their posts around the dome and began to follow.

“No!” Zuko launched himself at the dais, and was stopped in his tracks as it rose into the air, the Dai Li agents earthbending it to cover the gaps in the wall. Zuko pounded on the wall. “Get back here! When I win, you let her _go!”_

Aang concentrated on whipping up an air current to disperse the dome. The air wasn’t as sluggish and resistant as before, and it followed his motions up into the sky and away, the grey shadow dissipating as the smoke drifted away. He looked around for the others—they weren’t hard to spot, as the crowd was beginning to gather closely around Zuko.

“Prince Zuko! How long have you been back from your banishment!”

“Do you really think you can beat her?”

“ _Go AWAY,_ ” Zuko groaned, covering his ears and crouching as the people got closer to him.

“Aang!” Katara waved both her arms in the air. “Get Zuko! Meet us at the apartments!”

“Got it!” Aang waved back. He opened his glider with a flick, and swooped over the crowd, much to their excitement. He dropped his legs when he was over Zuko. “Grab on!”

Zuko looked up, and quickly stood, gabbing Aang around the waist. It was a little more effort with the extra weight, but Aang maneuvered them into the sky, away from the grasping crowd.

“What were you thinking back there?” Aang spluttered, as the glider leaned harshly to the side.

“Tell you when we land,” Zuko’s voice was muffled, as he’d pressed his face into Aang’s side so he wouldn’t have to look down.

——————————————————————

“What were you thinking? We’re not going to let you do this,” Sokka frowned.

“Try and _stop me,_ ” Zuko glared.

“Okay, fighting like this isn’t going to help anyone,” Suki said, pushing them apart. “Why don’t we all calm down and talk about this?”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Zuko grumbled.

“There is a certain merit to the idea of an Agni Kai,” Iroh stroked his beard with one hand. “Zuko publicly challenged Azula for the throne in front of a crowd—Foman’s plan to use Azula as a Fire Nation figurehead can’t go through until the legal issues of succession are resolved.”

“There’s no merit to any idea that involves Zuko getting pounded into dust in an Agni Kai,” Katara said.

“You think I’ve got _no_ chance? That’s a little insulting,” Zuko said.

“He’s right. There’s something off about her… Zuko was still able to move and fight normally when he was brainwashed, but she’s slipping,” Aang said.

“Tell me you’re not suggesting he should actually go through with this,” Katara said.

“Maybe we could cheat? Set something up to make _sure_ Zuko will win—“ Sokka started.

“No,” Zuko cut him off. “We’re not doing that.”

“There’s a time and a place for honor, but right now—“ Toph shrugged.

“This is the perfect time for it,” Zuko said. “You saw her. Foman won’t leave her alone for a second, but in an Agni Kai, she’ll _have_ to be alone. It’s the perfect chance for me to try and get through to her, and while she’s safely away from the Dai Li, everyone else can take them down. An Agni Kai between me and my sister is the perfect distraction for you to take care of Foman and as many of his agents as you can.”

“What will you do if it turns out she _can_ still fight?” Sokka asked.

“Azula is a better bender than me. I’ll do the best I can and it’ll have to be good enough,” Zuko said, through gritted teeth.

“She’ll kill you,” Iroh said.

“I really hope she won’t,” Zuko shrugged. “But it doesn’t matter if it means everyone else can stop Foman. This is our only option.”

“No it’s not! We could…um…we could…” Sokka squinted.

“This is what we’re doing,” Zuko said firmly. “Iroh, help me draw a map of the Agni Kai stadium. That’s where you guys should start searching for agents tomorrow, and clear out as many as you can during the fight.”

“I’m still not sure about this,” Aang said nervously.

“We need a plan to split into teams to cover different areas of the palace,” Sokka said. “…I’ll work on it.”

“Thank you,” Zuko sighed, relaxing just slightly.

“But you’d better know what you’re doing, because if Azula kills you, I’ll _kill_ you for getting yourself into this,” Sokka grumbled.

——————————————————————

“Your brother is standing in your way. He always has,” Foman said.

“…my…way…” Azula squinted.

“He humiliated you in front of the entire Fire Nation. Tomorrow, he’ll kill you unless you kill him first,” Foman continued.

“Zuko…wouldn’t… He humiliated me,” Azula squirmed in the earth restraints holding her to the throne.

“Why is she so resistant?” one of the agents asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Foman growled. “Once she wins the Agni Kai, no one in the Fire Nation will question her authority. We’ll keep her out of the way, and send armies of Fire Nation soldiers out into the world under her banners. Once the Fire Nation has conquered the world, the Dai Li will take the reigns.”

Azula coughed a puff of smoke and stared vaguely into the middle distance.

“She’s in no condition to fight,” the agent said.

“She will be,” Foman said. He turned back to face her. “Zuko has never cared for you. He hates you.”

“He hates me,” Azula repeated dully.

“At the Agni Kai, you will kill him,” Foman said.

“I’ll kill him,” Azula frowned, twisting in the chair. Lightning sparked through her fingers. Her hair began to rise slightly into the air with electric energy. Azula twitched and coughed black smoke.

——————————————————————

“Heyyy, Zuko. How are you doing?” Sokka asked.

“Fine,” Zuko said. “Why do you ask?”

“Because you’re lying on the floor staring at the ceiling mere hours before you have to fight your sister, potentially to the death,” Sokka said, sitting down next to him. “Come on, buddy. Do you want to train? We could spar outside.”

“Training would be pointless,” Zuko said. “Like I said. Azula is a better bender than me. Either she’s weakened from the Dai Li’s influence and I can beat her, or I can’t.”

“Okay, so…why not write some letters? You like that, right? They started piling up while you were…you know, kidnapped, so why not answer them now?” Sokka offered.

“Either I die fighting Azula and nobody bothers to read what I’ve written, or I live through it and the generals ignore me anyway,” Zuko sighed. “There’s no point. I shouldn’t have tried giving anyone orders by mail, I should have tracked them down in person and…it doesn’t matter now, I guess.”

“Okay, buddy. Zuko. What’s something that _does_ matter? You’re freaking everybody out. There has to be _something_ you want to do.” Sokka patted Zuko on the head.

“I think I want to see the world,” Zuko said. “I didn’t really get to experience it while I was hunting Aang. Everything I saw, I saw through my father’s eyes. Maybe I didn’t…maybe I didn’t want to leave the Fire Nation because I was _scared_ to leave because…being trapped here was the last thing he gave me.”

“We can’t exactly see the world before you go to the Agni Kai,” Sokka sighed. “There isn’t _that_ much time.”

“If I’ve miscalculated this, Azula is going to kill me, and I have to be ready for that,” Zuko said quietly, “but I don’t know how.”

“Let’s maybe try sitting up and making some tea with your mediation exercises? Lying here letting your thoughts spiral is just making you feel worse,” Sokka said. “Do it for me? I’m really thirsty, I’d love some tea.”

“Make your own tea,” Zuko grumbled, but he sat up. “Do you even have a cup?”

“I’ll go get the supplies,” Sokka said, standing up. “Wait right here, okay?”

“Yeah,” Zuko said.

——————————————————————

Not long after, Zuko walked through the rubble of the palace, followed by Iron and Aikoyo. The Agni Kai arena was one of the few landmarks left standing. They entered through a side door, and moved into the tunnel leading up to the arena. They could hear muffled sounds of people gathering up in the stands.

“There is still time to turn around and walk away,” Iroh said solemnly. “You found honor in refusing to fight once before. You could do it again.”

“Honor,” Zuko snorted, touching his scar with one hand. “Sure. …There’s still time for you to join Aang and the others. Aikoyo can handle Foman if you don’t want…to watch this,” Zuko said quietly.

“I won’t leave you,” Iroh said.

“Whatever happens…you’ve acted with bravery. Foman won’t be able to finish his plans secretly. You’ve forced him into the open, and you’ve made him vulnerable,” Aikoyo said.

“Let’s just hope I survive the experience,” Zuko shuddered.

“She genuinely cares for you,” Aikoyo said softly, touching Zuko’s shoulder.

“I know she does,” Zuko said, shrugging Aikoyo off. “That won’t stop her from hurting me. But it’s not her fault—if something _does_ happen to me, you both need to _promise_ you’ll protect her. Bring her back, just like you brought _me_ back.”

“You’ll bring her back yourself,” Aikoyo said.

Zuko hugged her. “I’ll see you both after,” he said.

Iroh shook his head. “I won’t leave your side, or sit on the sidelines again. Let me help you with your arm bands.”

“Oh, uncle,” Zuko smiled, eyes shining with tears. “You don’t have to—“

“—but someone should, and _I_ will,” Iroh said. “Are you ready?”

Zuko looked down the hallway. He could just barely hear the noise of the crowd, muffled and far away. It wasn’t too late to turn tail and run…but Foman wouldn’t leave Azula’s side unless she was in the middle of a fight.

“What’s another scar from a family member, anyway?” Zuko sighed. “Let’s go.”

——————————————————————

Zuko emerged into the sunlight, Iroh and Aikoyo flanking him. The crowd made noises, cheering or booing, Zuko didn’t know. _It doesn’t matter,_ Zuko thought. _Block them out._

Across the arena, Azula stood unsteady on her feet, with Foman almost holding her up. _That’s the only thing that matters. Getting Azula away from him._

Zuko turned and stripped out of his robe. “You’ll get to Foman?”

“As soon as the Agni Kai starts,” Aikoyo nodded. “I’ll signal Iroh if I need help.”

“I’ll be right here, ready to step in if Azula goes too far,” Iroh said.

“Help Aikoyo,” Zuko shook his head. “Either I can handle Azula or I can’t, but it won’t matter if Foman gets away.”

“She could kill you,” Iroh said. “It would be within her rights during an Agni Kai. I won’t—“

“I know the risks,” Zuko said. “But we both know I’m just the distraction. Trust me—I’ll make it a good one.”

Iroh helped Zuko pull the golden arm bands into place. “Make it out _alive,_ Zuko. That’s all I ask.”

“I’ll do my best,” Zuko nodded tightly. He adjusted one of the bands. He looked over at Azula, then back at Iroh and Aikoyo. He waved goodbye, and moved into the starting position. He knelt, and across the arena, watched as Foman left her side and she knelt too.

Zuko kept his breathing even and sure, though his heart was moving a million miles an hour. He blocked out the crowd, he blocked out Iroh and Aikoyo, he blocked out Foman, he blocked out everything but the arena and Azula.

_I am your loyal son,_ whispered his memory…from the last time he’d been in this spot.

_You won’t fight Azula._

But he had no choice. He grit his teeth and braced against the ground. The bell rang. The Agni Kai had begun.

——————————————————————

Azula made the first move, blasting blue flame in a wide arc down the arena. Zuko sidestepped and pushed it aside, as casually as you might touch your hand to a wall while walking around a corner. Azula began advancing, step by step down the arena, throwing flame with every perfectly-executed step of a firebending form as she approached. Zuko dodged three more before blasting one apart with his own flame, an orange knife dividing the wave. He flipped backwards out of her way as she shot another blast at him.

She wasn’t moving the way he expected. Azula was a fan of close combat, getting in under your guard and striking while you tried to react, but now she was distant, using ranged attacks. Zuko summoned a flame whip, and swung it wide around his head. Azula ducked under it and out of the way, completely ignoring the opening he’d left her to move in.

Zuko experimented further by taking a step towards her on his next attack. He was still halfway across the arena from her, but she _retreated._ He’d never seen her bend like that before. He took advantage of her slight pause to check on Foman—but he couldn’t see him, maybe Iroh and Aikoyo had already taken care of him—and right as he did so, lightning sliced just barely past his ear, less than a hair’s breadth away from him. _Stay focused._

Zuko moved towards Azula, jumping and kicking flame, and she retreated as far as she could within the Agni Kai borders. She screamed at him, and blue fire blasted through the air. Zuko dropped to the ground and spun in a circle, creating a little spiral of flame expanding towards her. She leapt over the border easily, and stepped towards Zuko, into his space. She breathed fire, and he was forced to back up or get singed, and he quickly found himself back on his own side of the arena, with the same barrier of space she’d maintained between them.

Azula had always had more endurance than Zuko, and she knew it. She launched attacks that forced him to block and defend with fire, not just dodge, and he was starting to get tired. He attempted another flame knife and her blue fire knocked it out of his grip, and knocked the wind out of his lungs. He needed just a half a second to recover, and she didn’t waste the opening. She threw a bolt of lightning straight at his face, and he was in the wrong stance to redirect it, and it was coming right _at him,_ and he panicked for just a split second and closed his eyes, putting his arms up over his face, _not again, not again…_

The lightning didn’t hit. Had she missed? He opened his eyes and looked up. She threw another bolt, and, following a hunch, he didn’t redirect it. It sliced over his head, harmlessly avoiding him, not even making contact with his hair. Something was wrong with Azula.

“Everything is gonna be okay, Azula,” Zuko said, violating one of the first rules of firebending, that you don’t try to talk when you’re saving your breath to bend. He took a step towards her, his hands help up in a loose defense. She threw another bolt, and it slid past his ribs, never touching him. He moved closer. She screamed flame and electricity crackled through the air, but it didn’t touch him. It danced around him, just like it did when she came back and stood in his cell and said she’d never try to kill him again.

“Why won’t you _die?_ ” Azula screamed, disheveled hair falling out of place.

“You always told me not to touch your lightning,” Zuko shrugged, smiling just a little bit.

“Get away from me,” Azula said, blasting lightning with both hands that just arced away from Zuko like it was being repelled.

“You couldn’t rescue me from Foman, but I’m gonna rescue _you,_ ” Zuko said, stepping even closer to her. She screamed and the air suddenly filled with lightning, a little sphere surrounding just the two of them, cutting them off from the world.

“I…I can’t…” Azula squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head furiously. “I have to kill you…”

“I love you,” Zuko said. “We’re siblings. We’ll always have each others’ backs.”

“Don’t touch me,” Azula gasped, struggling with the effort of maintaining the sphere, still trying to force it to collapse on Zuko…but not trying very hard.

“You can do it,” Zuko said quietly. There was no crowd, no Dai Li, nothing—just the two of them. “Snap out of it, Azula. Come back.” He reached out his hand for hers, making contact. He felt a shock and his whole body tingled, but it didn’t hurt—it was like a static electric charge you get after petting Appa, not a burn. Azula collapsed to the ground and the lightning ball dispersed.

“I did it,” Zuko whispered, kneeling next to her. “Azula. Azula, wake up. It’s gonna be okay. Azula…” He held her up, cradling her head in one of his hands. “Azula, please wake up, please…please wake up, it’s over now. You’re safe, I promise…Azula, please…” He was crying, he could feel the tears running down his cheeks as he held her. There was a buzzing sound around him, and he vaguely remembered he had a whole audience of people watching this, but he didn’t care. “Azula, just give me some sign you’re alive…”

He held her close, rocking gently back and forth and crying. His head felt fuzzy and cottony, like he was so full of tears that he’d never get them all out, but the pressure of holding them in was starting to hurt, but he was already crying as hard as he could, sobbing and not caring what anybody thought.

“Azula…” he whispered.

She coughed a little puff of smoke, and took a shuddery breath, not opening her eyes.

“Azula!” Zuko could barely see through his tears, could barely focus. “I need a doctor! Katara. Katara could help, I need Katara… _someone help me!_ ” Zuko screamed, voice raw with emotion.

“Everything is all right,” someone was saying, and touching his shoulders. Iroh? it was Iroh.

“We have to help her,” Zuko blubbered.

“We will,” Iroh said. “It’s all going to be okay. You did it…Fire Lord.”

“Did you hear that? It’s going to be okay, Azula,” Zuko sobbed. “You’re going to be all right.”

Iroh kept talking. “Here, stand up and we’ll—“

“ _No!_ I’m not leaving her,” Zuko cried, leaning over Azula protectively. “Get Katara, uncle, _please,_ go get help, Azula needs chi un-blocking or meditation or magic water or _something_ , _please—“_

Iroh’s hands left his shoulders. Zuko stayed with Azula in the arena until Katara came, and then held Azula’s hand while Katara worked, until she told him she needed more space to finish the job. Zuko allowed himself to be given a blanket and led away back to the apartment building.

“Tea?” Iroh offered as they came to Zuko’s room.

“Maybe later,” Zuko sighed. “I’m so tired, I feel like I could sleep forever.” Zuko yawned and curled up on his sleeping mat, tucked under the covers like a little dragon protecting its hoard.

“Sleep well,” Iroh smiled, ruffling his hair.

——————————————————————

“So…that happened,” Sokka coughed awkwardly. A day or two later, in the aftermath of the Agni Kai, he, Katara, Toph, Aang, and Zuko had gathered in the dining room. It wasn’t quite a council meeting, but it wasn’t quite “friends sharing a cup of tea” either.

“How did we do against the Dai Li?” Zuko asked.

“Toph was amazing—I know Aang’s the Avatar, but I swear to Tui and La, Toph is the strongest one on Team Avatar,” Sokka said. “You should have seen it.”

“I’m the muscle, what can I say?” Toph laughed. “But Sokka’s the one who organized the attack. He told me where to hit, and I did it.”

“I was with Suki,” Aang said. “We followed the plan exactly, we found Foman’s new “office” set up in the old throne room and took his papers. The Fire Nation is _full_ of Dai Li spies, brainwashed and otherwise, but all the information we need to find them is in the documents. Suki has been distributing the information, dumping all of the Dai Li’s secrets out in the open.”

“I think I’ve got a letter somewhere here detailing how that’s going,” Zuko sighed, ruffling through a stack of his own papers. “I can hardly believe it’s over. Is this what it was like after you took down my father?”

“There were more losses that day,” Sokka said sadly.

“Fortunately, no casualties this time,” Katara smiled. “Azula’s doing well…um, as well as could be expected. She’s going to need some time to recover, but she won’t even have a scar. She keeps asking to see Zuko, but she’s not threatening to kill anyone, so that’s good.”

“I should go see her,” Zuko said, standing up. “She’ll need my help. We’re both just our father’s kids—she needs to know she has people who care about her. She needs a support system.”

“We should probably talk about the tiger-elephant in the room first, though,” Toph said. “How does it feel to be Fire Lord?”

“It’s not quite like I imagined,” Zuko sighed, sitting back down.

“Wait…what?” Sokka looked up.

“I publicly challenged Azula for the throne, I defeated her in a public Agni Kai…I’m the Fire Lord. The first _official_ Fire Lord since before the comet,” Zuko said.

“Well…I guess it’s not _so_ weird, you were pretty much Fire Lord before all this, anyway,” Sokka shrugged.

“This is different,” Zuko shook his head. “Before…it was like it wasn’t _real._ I was answering letters and giving people advice, but you all know that generals were making their own choices whether or not to listen to me. If I’m going to do this…I mean, if I’m going to be the Fire Lord, I can’t stay in the Fire Nation.”

“But Zuko! You always said you never wanted to leave again after you ended your banishment,” Aang said.

“I know what I said,” Zuko sighed. “I still _don’t_ want to leave. But I want to make up for the things I’ve done, and the people I’ve hurt, and I want to help the people the Dai Li has hurt, too. I can’t do that living in a palace. I need to go back out there, talk to people, start building up the world’s trust in me. …For example, I need to go back to the North Pole, and apologize humbly for the pain the Fire Nation has caused.”

“You’ll have a lot more pit stops than the North Pole if _that’s_ what you want to do,” Toph snorted.

“I know,” Zuko nodded. “I should probably contact the crew of the Wani, and tell them to ready the ship.”

“You’re Team Avatar now,” Aang smiled. “You travel by sky bison.”

“You’ll come with me?” Zuko asked, startled.

“The message of peace might carry a lot more weight if the Fire Lord and the Avatar are working together,” Aang smiled.

“And with your Water Tribe Ambassador Sokka!” Sokka grinned. “We should all go. I’ll make up titles for Katara and Toph, too.”

“Who needs a made-up title?” Katara scoffed. “ _I’m_ going to be the Chief, _Ambassador._ ”

“I want a made-up title!” Toph said, cracking her knuckles. “The Blind Bandit is _back!”_

“Thank you, all of you,” Zuko said quietly, rubbing away a tear. “For everything. For believing in me, for helping me, for—“

“Aw, shut up, Sparky,” Toph grinned, grabbing Zuko around the waist in a hug. Aang scooped up Katara and Sokka and then they were all hugging, a pile of people too young for what they’d been through, and who’d all seen enough trouble to last a lifetime.

“It’s really over,” Zuko sighed happily.

——————————————————————

“Hey there, Azula,” Zuko said, shuffling awkwardly into the room they’d given her in the apartments. “How are you feeling?”

“This whole place is made of wood,” Azula sniffed. “Quite the fire hazard, if you ask me.”

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Zuko smiled, launching himself into her arms for a hug.

“Hey, hey, stop. _Stop,_ ” Azula groaned, playfully shoving him off. She smiled, just a little bit. “I’m glad you’re okay, too.”

“All that time getting manipulated by our father, just to get manipulated by Foman,” Zuko shook his head. “I feel like you’re the only other person in the world who gets it. We’re never gonna be like anybody else, are we?”

“Never say never,” Azula smiled. “I haven’t burned _this_ place down…yet. So I guess your friends are rubbing off on me. Ew. Are we rebuilding the palace, though? Because if not, I _have_ to find somewhere else to live than _this_ place.”

“In general, the palace is getting rebuilt,” Zuko said, sitting next to her. “It makes a lot of work for ex-soldiers who need the jobs. We can pay really well, because of Dad’s treasury. I’m trying to have it redesigned so it’s less empty and gloomy—but, um…I’m not living there. Not for a while, at least.”

“Oh?” Azula raised an eyebrow. “Where will you be living?”

“On the road,” Zuko smiled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m going to travel the world with Aang, and try to undo some of the damage the Hundred Year War and our father caused.”

“That’s…very noble of you,” Azula said.

“…Would you…want to come with us?” Zuko asked.

“Do you think your friends would want me around?” Azula looked away.

“Well, you’d have to tone down the threats of extreme violence,” Zuko snorted. “Oh, I’m Azula, I will do unspeakably horrible things to you,” he said, mimicking her tone of voice.

“Oh, I’m Zuko, I only care about honor,” Azula grumbled in a deep tone, smiling.

“…I was thinking, maybe for our first stop…we could go see Dad, in prison,” Zuko said. “Maybe it’s a bad idea, but I was hoping for…I don’t know, closure or something.”

“It would _kill_ him to see you alive and happy,” Azula grinned like a saber-toothed-panther-lion. “You know, I never _did_ make it past Earth Kingdom defenses to give Daddy Dearest a piece of my mind. I might just have to join you…for _one_ stop. I’m not joining your redemption arc field trip around the world,” Azula rolled her eyes.

Zuko squeezed her hand. “Well, I guess we’ll never know if you _can_ be redeemed until we try,” he smiled.

“If friendship with the Avatar did _this_ to _you,_ I hate to see what it’ll do to me,” Azula mock-shuddered. “When do we leave?”

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so ends There Is No Fire Lord! My current plan is to rework it (consider this a first draft) and republish it as two arcs, a zuko-deals-with-prison-trauma-and-makes-friends arc and a zuko-deals-with-the-dai-li arc. Which means I am in the market for what ever writer needs when revising a first draft: 1) compliments 2) gently delivered explanations of plot holes you found 3) thoughts on what you wanted more of or less of (where was it too fast or too slow) and, most importantly, 4) compliments. Please send me critiques but be warned I am SENSITIVE! do not be mean to me, this is the longest thing I've ever written and i'm super proud.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! This has been a wild ride to write in quarantine, it started out as an AU for Towards the Sun by Mufflinlance and it spiraled into a completely different direction, and I loved making it! Thank you for reading and supporting me :)
> 
> See you later ;)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Mistaken Hope](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25678981) by [Mysterious_Little_Critter626](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mysterious_Little_Critter626/pseuds/Mysterious_Little_Critter626)




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